Her Dangerous Promise - Part 4: (Romantic Suspense Serial) (4 page)

Chapter Ten

Thom jogged away from the van, searching for any sign to point him in the direction Mary had gone. Even though he hated leaving Brad while he was injured, Thom had to find Mary first. He hadn’t seen them through the windshield when they ran off, so he went the other way, hoping that his instincts were correct.

Over the wire, he’d heard Mary talk about an office and doors. Her footfalls echoed too. She’d gone inside a building but which one?

Thom pressed a palm to the side of his aching head, with each thud of his heart his head surged. That pain paled in comparison to the ache in his heart. He couldn’t lose Mary. Not now. Not this way.

One of the warehouses not far up the street had an opening in the fence with a simple tollbooth style bar blocking vehicular traffic. The truck entrance of the warehouse stood wide open and the light blazed like a beacon in the night.

Mary went that way, searching for help. He knew it. Frightened people tended to run toward the light. He touched the earpiece, wishing he could glean a clue from the clattering sounds he heard.

Thom rushed inside the warehouse. There was no sign of anyone. Had he guessed wrongly? Had she gone in a different direction?

As he started to backtrack, he heard a banging. The vastness of the warehouse muffled the sound but over the wire it resounded clearly.

“Mary!” he shouted. “Mary!”

She had to be close. He could hear the banging somewhere nearby and a louder reverberation in his ear. Thom pulled out the earphone and listened, trying to get a bearing on the direction.

He raced between the stacks of boxes but the source of the sound eluded him. Then movement caught his eye.

There, up among the rafters, someone slammed himself against a barrier. Thom squinted, raising his hands to his eyes so he could block out the bright overhead lighting.

Adam Fielding. Thom knew he created the sound he heard over the wire. Mary had to be close to him but he couldn’t see her. Thom scanned his surroundings quickly. The walkway spanned the length of the warehouse and the steps up to the walkway closest to him were on the opposite side from Adam.

With a screech of metal bending, the barrier before Adam bent over. Mary rose from the walkway and started running.

Thom cursed, bolting for the steps.

Chapter Eleven

The metal of the gate groaned and squealed as it folded downward from the frame. Even with her feet braced against the gate, Mary couldn’t hold Adam back any longer. Mary scrambled to her feet and, holding the railing on either side, she hurried across the walkway. To distract herself from the long drop to the warehouse floor and the lack of anything but a rickety walkway and a thin railing between herself and that drop, she focused on the gate at the far end. It was so far away and each step of her shaky legs only brought her fractionally closer.

The walkway jolted with each of Adam’s lurching steps.

Mary glanced back at him. He wasn’t able to ignore the height either. He continued to progress forward, one step at a time but he faced the side, not forward. He moved hand over hand along the railing, slowing his progress. Blood from the gash on his back soaked his black sweatshirt, making it shiny.

Unable to hold onto the bar he’d used to pry open the gate while he crept along, it slipped from his hands and bounced off a pillar of boxes before cartwheeling to the floor.

“Adam,” Mary called out to him. “You don’t have to follow me. You can go back.”

“I can’t go back,” Adam said.

“Yes, you can.” Mary didn’t slow down, extending her lead. Up until now, she hadn’t been able to try to reason with him. “Believe me. I understand where you are coming from.”

“You don’t know anything!”

“Listen to me, Adam. I know about your mom dying. You depended on her for everything.”

“Shut up! I’m not stupid. I’m not a mama’s boy.”

“I know you are not, Adam. I do. It’s good to love your mother, that doesn’t make you a mama’s boy. You love her and you miss her. I know. I get it.”

Mary glanced back at him. He kept coming. He’d developed a rhythm to his hand over hand progress and he moved faster now. She wasn’t sure if he still listened but she pressed on. “Adam, I know why you wanted me to stay with you. I remind you of your mother, don’t I?”

“You’re nothing like her. She never hit me.”

“I didn’t want to hit you either, Adam.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“You hurt me first, Adam.” Mary touched her neck. “Didn’t you see the bruises you left on my throat? Don’t you remember banging my head into the car?”

“I didn’t want to do that! I didn’t!”

“But you did do it. You hurt me like you hurt the other woman, Nancy. You did hurt Nancy, didn’t you?”

“She kicked me.”

“But you started it, didn’t you?”

“It’s not my fault,” Adam yelled. “It wouldn’t have happened if you had stayed with me. Why didn’t you just stay with me? Why won’t anyone stay with me?”

“There are people who can help you. I met your doctor from the hospital. She said you could stay there. You wouldn’t be alone. There would be other people there like you.”

“Not an institution. I won’t stay in an institution!”

“Not an institution,” Mary assured him. “A group home. You would make lots of friends and have people to watch out for you.”

“They killed my cat. Did she tell you that? I won’t go back there.” Adam stopped and hunched over the railing. He gripped it so hard his fingers whitened. The anguished moan that escaped him rose and changed to a war cry that echoed like the roar of a monster. Furiously, he shook the railing, forcing Mary to stop and hold on herself or risk losing her footing on the rocking walkway.

She’d made it beyond the midpoint but the other side was still a couple of hundred yards away. The metal of the walkway rattled and squealed under the abuse and she prayed it was sturdier than it seemed.

Adam jumped up and down in a tantrum suited to someone much younger in chronological age but precisely reflective of his emotional age. The floor grates, not securely bolted down and not intended to be misused in this fashion, bounced in their frames. Mary watched her feet as they rebounded inches above the grates with each jarring bounce and gripped the railing even harder.

“I want things to be the way they were!” he shouted at her. “Don’t you understand that?”

“I understand, Adam.” Mary spoke firmly, as she would to a student, as she hoped Adam’s mother had spoken to him when she tried to manage his temper. “Now stop jumping before you fall.”

He gave one more big jump in defiance, and then spun to face her. “If you wanted to make things right, then you never should have left.”

“You are not mad at me, Adam.” Mary stepped backward, further from him.

He started walking toward her normally now, as if he no longer noticed the height. He didn’t even grip the railing with one hand.

“You are mad at your mom for leaving. She died and left you alone, not me.”

“You could have stayed,” he pleaded. “You could have made things all right again. If you had just stayed.”

“Adam, please listen to me—”

“Why can’t things just be the way they were?” he yelled.

“Because they can’t.” He was gaining on her. Mary feared if she ran he would too and he’d catch her before she could reach the other side. She really didn’t want to fight him on this catwalk. She walked backward as fast as she could while keeping her grasp on the railing.

“You ruined everything when you left,” Adam cried. The anguish and anger dripped in his voice.

“Adam, please—”

“I have no one now. No one! The police broke into my home. They took it. I can’t go back there.”

“Yes, you can. I know a policeman.”

He glared at her.

“A very nice policeman,” she amended. “I could tell him that it’s okay. I could make it so you can still live there.”

“You did talk to the police. You promised you wouldn’t! How could you do that to me?”

“Adam.” Tears brimmed in Mary’s eyes and she blinked them aside. They dribbled down her cheeks but she didn’t release her grip on the railing to wipe them away. “We can work this out. I promise it will be okay, if you just stop this.”

“Promise? You promise?” He roared, “You lie!”

“Adam, just go back, okay? Just go back to the other side. I’ll bring help. I’ll bring people who can talk to you and help work this all out.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll tell on me again.” He sped up. “You won’t tell on me anymore.”

“Adam, no!”

He broke into a full run.

Mary turned and raced to the gate. She slammed into it but it didn’t budge. She jerked desperately on the handle but it wouldn’t open. Through the narrow wire mesh of the gate she could see the bar keeping the gate locked in place. She was trapped!

She turned and braced herself against the gate. She had no weapons. She had no escape.

Adam slowed as he too realized she was at his mercy. His fists flexed and clenched. “You won’t tell on me anymore,” he repeated. “Ever again.”

Chapter Twelve

Thom saw Mary reach the gate and struggle uselessly to open it. When she turned to face her pursuer, Adam was only steps away from her. Adam focused completely on her, even as Thom ran to the gate and pulled the lock bar free.

When he yanked the gate open, Thom felt his stomach drop.

Mary screamed.

Adam gripped Mary by the back of the neck and forced her down over the railing. Her stomach curled around the railing and she hung on with both hands but Adam managed to tip her further forward any way. Her loose hair fell forward so he couldn’t see her face. He hoped that curtain of hair would shield her.

“Let her go, Adam!”

Thom stepped onto the catwalk. He balanced the lock bar in his left hand. He held it low, non-threatening, but ready to use.

Adam pushed at Mary harder. Her feet lifted from the walkway. She screamed again.

Thom raised his right hand, aimed the pepper spray and squeezed the trigger. A stream shot out and splattered Adam in the face.

He yelled and staggered into Mary, almost sending her over the railing.

With both hands full, Thom had to sacrifice something. He dropped the pepper spray. It bounced on the walkway before rolling off into space. Thom caught Mary by the back of her dress and yanked her back onto the walkway. With a hand on her hip, Thom maneuvered Mary behind him. “Get back.”

Adam scrubbed at his face, muttering angrily. He squinted at Thom with his red and watery eyes. With a yell, Adam charged at Thom.

Thom raised the bar in both hands and managed to keep it between them as Adam tackled him around the middle. The pair hit the walkway with enough force to rattle the metal grating.

Thom shoved the bar against Adam’s chest and bench pressed him to arm’s length. He worked his foot between them and kicked out. Adam flew backward.

Thom got his feet under him before Adam reoriented himself. He reached around and snatched the handcuffs from his back pocket. As Adam grabbed the railing, Thom snapped a cuff around his wrist.

With a shout, Adam punched at Thom with his free hand. Thom brought up the bar to block it and caught Adam across the forearm.

Adam howled in pain. He dropped to the walkway and Thom rolled Adam onto his stomach. Kneeling on Adam’s back, Thom twisted the other arm behind him and snapped on the other cuff.

“Okay, Scuzbag.” Thom climbed off Adam and he tugged on his elbows to force him to his knees. “Get on your feet. You mess with my girl, you go to jail.”

Mary called, “Thom, be careful. Don’t trust him.”

On his knees, Adam panted, “No.”

“Get up,” Thom ordered. “You’ve done enough harm.”

Adam worked one foot under him. “You’re not the boss of me!”

Mary screamed, “Adam, no!”

Adam kicked up and back. He launched himself against Thom and pitched them both over the railing.

“No!” Mary screamed.

The railing jabbed in Thom’s side as he flipped over it. Adam’s weight propelled him into space. His feet flew up toward the ceiling. Nothing but three stores of air separated his head and the concrete.

Thom caught the railing in one hand. Adam soared past him as Thom twisted around. His grip held for all of a second before his momentum tugged him loose. Thom kept reaching even as he dropped away from the walkway. As he fell, everything slipped into slow motion. He saw Mary race to the railing and reach uselessly out toward him.

The impact against his back came much sooner than he expected. An explosive crunching surrounded him as he sunk into the surface that gave beneath him. He lay there a second, verifying he’d come to a stop and taking inventory of any injuries.

“Oh God, Thom,” Mary cried and ran toward the steps.

Thom rolled to his side to take in his surroundings. He sprawled in the crater of a stack of cardboard boxes which had partially collapsed beneath him.

Thom eased his way to the edge of the boxes and looked down. He was still twenty feet up off the ground on a pillar of boxes. Beneath him, Adam rolled on the pile of flattened boxes on the floor below, moaning. With his right leg at that gut-wrenching angle, he wouldn’t escape this time.

Groaning, Thom maneuvered to his stomach. He used the irregular edge of the boxes to climb down. Never had standing on solid ground felt as good as it did when Thom finally stepped onto the floor.

He stood over Adam, who glared up at him with his teeth gritting.

“Like I was saying,” Thom said, “you’re under arrest.”

“Thom!” Mary rushed to him.

He caught her in a powerful embrace and lifted her up off her feet. Thom crushed her to him, burying his face in her fragrant hair. She felt soft and warm and, at long last, safe. Their mouths came together. Her kiss tasted sweet, sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted.

Chapter Thirteen

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Thom lifted his glass and addressed the small gathering in Mary’s living room. “To Mary and her first day back to work.”

“Here! Here!” Warren Seeton, Mary’s father, seconded.

“And how was your first day back, dear?” Elizabeth Seeton asked Mary, cradling an arm around her daughter’s waist.

“Fantastic. The kids all made me ‘we miss you’ cards and the principal threw me a little party with one of those big chocolate chip cookie cakes.”

“Oh, I love those,” Brad rubbed his stomach.

Mary smiled at him. “There are lots of leftovers in the kitchen.” Mary furrowed her brows at the large bandage taped over Brad’s temple. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. At least we settled the argument of who had the thicker skull, me or Thom. Don’t worry about me. I’m tough.” Brad lightly patted Mary on the back. “Just like you.”

Brad chucked Thom on the chin as he passed him en route to the cookie cake. “And I’m glad you convinced this lunk-head to take his vacation with you these last two weeks. Do you know, he’s not missed a day of work in five years?”

“She didn’t need to convince me,” Thom murmured, then gave Mary a wink that made her blush.

“How was Paris?”

“We didn’t do much sightseeing,” he grinned, then noticed Mary’s embarrassment in front of her parents, so he amended, “We mostly visited with Mary’s folks.”

“And we had a lovely time,” Elizabeth agreed. “But we had to come back and make sure Mary settled in all right. Plus we needed to throw a party to dispel any negative memories that might be lurking.”

“I’m just glad Thom’s mom didn’t mind watching Fizgig.” Mary picked up the cat and grunted. “Boy, you’re getting heavy.”

Mrs. Brady reached over and scratched the cat between the ears. “He just appreciated my cooking, didn’t you little man?”

Fizgig purred and leaned into her caress. “Uh-oh. I think he may have lost his heart to you.”

“I’m certain that is not true. He probably smells the chicken on me. Which reminds me, I need to check on it.” Mrs. Brady stroked Mary’s hair affectionately before going off to the kitchen.

“Anybody home?” Nancy called through the screen door. “I brought champagne.”

“Then we are definitely home,” Warren said.

“So we are only waiting on your neighbor, Mrs. Jorgenson to join us now?” Elizabeth asked.

Mary looked at her watch, then out the door. “Law and Order just signed off a minute ago. Yep! There she is right on time.”

Mrs. Jorgenson scooted across the street. “I’m here!” she announced. “Did I miss anything?”

“Not yet. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Good.” She straightened her polyester pantsuit. “I like your new front door. You know, when I saw that man and you struggling that night, I called the police. Too bad they arrived too late. You should have seen them surround the house and smash in the door. It was just like Law and Order.”

“I’m sure it was,” Thom slipped a protective arm around Mary and squeezed her to him.

“I’ve been dying to ask what happened with that Adam fellow,” Mrs. Jorgenson piped up.

He’d hoped to avoid the subject during the party but everyone was watching him expectantly. “Dr. Westin got him in a special institute in Cleveland for people with his condition and temperament. The judge will probably make him a permanent ward of the institute. It’s a high security hospital, so he won’t be going anywhere.”

“I almost feel sorry for him,” Mary said.

“I don’t,” Nancy interjected. “I don’t want him to ruin our festivities either, so let’s not talk about him anymore.”

Mary’s father took his daughter’s hand and said, “Now, I want you to promise me you’ll never keep something like this from us again.”

“No more secrets?” she asked and glanced up at Thom who nodded. “Well, I guess I should wear it then.”

“Wear what?” her mother asked.

Thom reached in the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a diamond ring. He slipped it on Mary’s left hand.

“You’re engaged?” Elizabeth gasped.

“I know it is kind of quick,” Mary said, “but we both felt it is right.”

“Don’t freak out,” Thom added. “We agreed we’ll make it a long engagement.”

Mrs. Jorgenson sighed. “How romantic. Just like that lawyer on Law and Order.”

Mary laughed, slipped the fingers of her newly bejeweled hand between Thom’s, and kissed him.

###

Thank you for reading

Her Dangerous Promise!

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Looking for something new to read? Check out the paranormal romance,
Secrets of the Dark
, by Ravynheart Romance author,
Elizabeth Drake!

~A taste of~

Secrets of the Dark

Running didn’t lessen the drenching downpour driving into Tia Lansing with the cold sting of dozens of tiny whips. She leaped over a swirling puddle too quickly replenished by the runoff to disappear down the storm drain at the curb. Her thin skirt, now a nearly transparent wrap, clung around her knees and cut her stride short of its mark. Tia landed with both feet in the puddle and the freezing water completely covered her strappy sandals. With a squeak of shock at the cold rush over her feet, she jumped up onto the curb.

The streak of street lights glistened off the night-blackened buildings and asphalt, transforming the city into a vision of one built entirely out of volcanic glass. The rain washed away the usual city smells and perfumed the night with its eerie wild river scent. No sound reached Tia through the muffling hiss whispered by each of the billions of droplets falling from the sky like arrows.

She hurried to the underpass where the late night trains rumbled through the city on their elevated railway. In the shelter of the underpass, she shook the rivulets from her bare arms. Her hair clung to her face and curled into wet ringlets over her shoulders. Tia wiped uselessly at her face with her wet hands while she struggled to catch her breath and shiver at the same time.

“You didn’t really dress for this weather.” The voice rumbled low like a distant echo of thunder.

Tia glanced up, startled to discover she shared the underpass with someone else. He half sat, half leaned on the guardrail further up the sidewalk on her side of the street, his ankles crossed casually. The mist of the rain reached out to him but always recoiled before touching him. He hadn’t glanced in her direction but watched the toes of his black leather shoes instead.

A glint of something shiny flashed in his hand before he slipped it down beside his thigh where she could no longer see it. His other hand remained tucked in the pocket of his black slacks. The sharp white of his shirt glowed from under his black suit jacket. Unlike Tia, the rain hadn’t yet touched him. His satin midnight hair remained perfectly parted and combed back.

Tia crossed her arms, both for warmth and to disguise the fact her drenched pastel pink blouse no longer concealed the outline of her bra. Walking carefully so her wet feet didn’t slip in her heels and cause her to stumble, she crept toward his side of the underpass. Her apartment, a tiny one over the Aquarius New Age Bookstore, waited for her several blocks further down in The District, as the locals call the historic market district that remained picturesque and nearly unchanged in the heart of downtown like a gem in a tacky plastic setting.

As Tia passed the stranger a streak of lightning flickered like a strobe, driving back the depths of the night for the span of a breath and revealed not a soul on the hauntingly empty streets. With renewed force, the clouds opened and released a full-on torrent so heavy the rain just beyond the shelter rippled like a curtain and completely closed off the outside world.

“Best to simply loiter until it passes,” he said. With a smooth roll of his wrist the shiny object she’d noticed in his hand caught the reflection of the streetlight. Whatever it was appeared thin and around five or six inches in length. Before Tia could get a good look at it he completed the movement and raised his empty hand to rest against his thigh. The object was gone as if by sleight of hand, if indeed there had been an object and not simply a trick of the light.

“It could be a while, don’t you think?” Tia asked, rubbing her arms.

“It is storming with a passion.” He grinned, still not meeting her eyes. “Have you ever known something with this much passion to last?”

“I guess not.” She paced away from him and as she turned to cover the same ground again she found his gaze following her. A shiver tingled across Tia’s skin and she felt her nipples hardening in response. Her arms, still crossed over her chest, rubbed tantalizingly over the sensitive points but she managed to suppress any telltale expression. “Are you from around here?”

“For now.”

“What’s your name?”

He straightened suddenly, coming to his feet and towering much taller than she’d expected. His jacket and shirt, both unbuttoned, flapped open with the movement, revealing a far more toned and massive chest than his previous stance suggested. The shape of him sparked interest low in Tia’s belly and made breathing difficult. In looks, he should have been a model but he carried himself like a cat, all smooth and fluid movements designed for efficiency but graceful none the less. He purred, “Do you need to know?”

Tia froze, recognizing the domination in his baring. Determined not to show fear, she tilted up her chin. “I need to know.”

“Simon. And yours?”

Watching him closely, she replied, “Tia.”

“Nice name.” Simon strode a few paces away, glancing at the impenetrable rainfall. “And what beckoned you to adventure out on a hellish night like tonight, Tia?”

She shifted from foot to foot, not sure she wanted to share any more personal information with this strange man. Then again, she didn’t want him to get the wrong impression of why she walked the streets alone this late at night. “I own a bar downtown. I just finished closing up and I’m heading home.” Living in the city, she’d learned never to display weakness to a stranger. With challenge in her voice she demanded, “And you?”

He chuckled to himself as if finding the question amusing and he eased back toward her. “Just out looking for a bite to eat.”

“Uh-huh,” Tia said, watching him size her up wolfishly as if she were on the menu. A tremble, composed of equal parts fear and excitement, coursed through her. Tia found him far too sexy to trust her judgment. She wanted to stay, wanted to get closer, maybe even touch him but she heard the warning sirens in her head blaring. Best to listen to the warning, she decided and circled a wide path around him toward home.

She was just a step away from reentering the pelting rain when a sudden explosion of thunder overheard jolted her back. Her heels slipped on the slick pavement and before she could fall or catch herself, Simon gathered her in his arms. He’d crossed the distance between them extraordinarily fast.

“Whoa, fella. Hands off.” Tia pushed against his chest, missing the opened shirt so her palms pressed on his unyielding bare pecs. The skin glistened with a golden tan and felt as supple as fine suede.

His hands slid down Tia’s arms, leaving hot trails in their wake. Simon lowered his hands to his side but didn’t step back. Standing so close to her, the rustle of the storm winds blew his open jacket so it fluttered against her torso. The heat pulsing from his body drove away the chills and pulled her magnetically toward him. He asked, “You’d prefer I allow you to fall?”

“I guess not,” she mumbled, no longer focused on the minor offense but instead staring with fascination into his eyes. A starburst of white ringed his pupils and flamed into burning yellow only to cool into a red crown circling the edge of his irises. The color seemed to modulate, as if capturing the flicker of a flame in slow motion. “You have fire in your eyes,” she said, only half aware of how stupid the comment sounded.

“Not just in my eyes,” Simon smiled.

A gust of dry heat puffed over Tia and she stumbled back a step in surprise. “What was that?” She touched her newly dried hair and smoothed her perfectly pressed clothes. “How did you do that?”

“That was nothing,” he dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

“Sure impressed the hell out of me.”

He cocked his head, sizing her up. A grin quirked up the corners of his perfect lips, which were just full enough to imply a melting tenderness to his kisses. The expression softened the perfect planes of his face. With amused surprise in his voice, he stated, “You’re not afraid, are you?”

Tia thought about the question. The adrenaline prickling in her blood rushed not to her muscles, as if to prepare to fight or flee but to her skin, heart and lower regions, making her body ache with a longing only physical contact of a romantic nature could soothe. Breathlessly, she asked, “Should I fear you?”

He considered the question. “Should you? What an interesting dilemma. What should one do in your predicament? What should one feel? I have never pondered that.”

Tia stepped back out of arms’ reach, not able to reconcile the attraction and mistrust mingling inside her. “My predicament? What predicament am I in?”

“That I cannot express in words you would understand.” Simon held out his hand, palm up. “I can only show you.”

She stared at his hand, debating if she should accept the offer she assumed it meant. She hadn’t yet moved, either to accept or retreat when the glowing began.

In a voice as terrifying as the roar of a landslide and echoing with inhuman power, Simon uttered, “Titch Cha, Aroomba Tha.”

A golden light emerged from Tia’s heart, glowing with the brilliance of flaming copper. It grew like a supernova until the light no longer came from inside but surrounded her in a glittering cocoon. She struggled to breathe. The energy, so powerful, so vibrant, expanded her sense of self until she felt she existed both inside her body and yet filled the bubble of light with her essence. “What’s happening?”

As the leading membrane of the energy encased Simon’s outstretched hand, the pressure of the power eased slightly. Tia felt herself drawn to him like a tide to the moon. The energy, not her consciousness, drew her hand into his.

Simon’s eyebrows twitched up in surprise but grasped her hand anyway. With a gentle tug, he dragged himself through the thick power surrounding her until it completely subsumed him.