Imminent Danger (Adrenaline Highs) (2 page)

But she didn’t want to face him. She especially didn’t want him to see her so weak. It seemed that’s how he always saw her. When she was at her most defenseless. She hated it.

“Abbey!” He barked her name again and this time Abbey met his gaze. True concern clouded his gorgeous blue eyes as he held her face in his big hands. “Breathe,” he told her. “Breathe with me. C’mon. In and out. You know the drill.”

The first time they’d met, she’d had a panic attack in a broken elevator and he’d talked her through it. Her sister and parents had always been the only people capable of calming her down from an attack before then. But Blake had a way about him. A confidence. He was a couple of years younger than her, but seemed to have an old soul that talked to her.

Abbey just refused to listen.

“Abbey!” Blake said sharply. “Look at me. Concentrate.”

She blinked, focused and followed his lead, taking long breaths and releasing them slowly until she had a rhythm, until the air flowed into her lungs the way it was supposed to.

“There you go. That’s my girl.” Blake wrapped his arms around her again and Abbey let him. She not only let him, she burrowed deep into his chest and breathed in his woodsy fresh scent. He always smelled so good and avoiding him had become harder and harder over the months since her their bosses had married.

She didn’t get nearly enough time in Blake’s arms before fresh chaos erupted in the form of police invading the lobby. Though it seemed the danger had passed, now they had the aftermath.

Blake let her go and pulled out his cell phone from his back pocket.

Abbey crossed her arms and forced herself to stop shaking. “Who are you texting?”

“Troy.”

She bobbed her head. Good. Troy would know what to do. He was one of the best private investigators in the city and he knew dozens of officers in multiple stations. Abbey moved toward the police who swarmed the area. Two uniformed officers came her way. “Tell him to hurry,” she said over her shoulder.

“I did.” Blake caught up to her, put his arm around her shoulders and Abbey didn’t try to pull away.

Chapter Two

The simple fact that Abbey let Blake touch her told him she was freaked out. Of course, the place was still buzzing with energy. People clustered in groups talking and pointing, and police converged nearby.

Blake hadn’t seen her this anxious since the day he’d met her. He’d never forget that day. Never forget the smile on her face when she’d thanked him for holding the elevator and never forget the panic and fear a few minutes later when that same elevator had nearly dropped them.

In general, he’d never met a cooler chick than Abbey Washington. Cool in every sense of the word. She had style, grace and she was a master at giving the cold shoulder. He’d been certain they’d made a connection in the hour they were stuck in that elevator. But he’d never been more wrong. Even when he found out who she was months later and they ended up spending a serious amount of time together because of their bosses, she’d just pretended that he didn’t exist.

What the hell was a guy supposed to think? Besides, he didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t want to be with him. He wasn’t an idiot. Even if that person was as fucking beautiful as Abbey. God, every time he looked at her he found something else to drool over. He loved the smoky green of her eyes, the color of her light mocha skin, the long dark eyelashes that fluttered when she blinked and the smooth perfection of her shoulders when she wore a little strappy top. Most of all, he went bat-shit crazy for her full lips. Lips that he’d been dying to kiss for more months than was healthy.

Okay, so the world had a ton of beautiful women and he didn’t want to be like every other guy who chased after her. But watching her over the past year, seeing how much she cared for her boss, the way she went above and beyond her job to make sure Julie had everything she needed, made keeping his distance from her that much harder.

Jesus, the way she held onto him now, with her arm around his waist, clutching his shirt like she belonged to him, like she wanted him with her, sent every caveman cell in his system on
protect.

And
mine.

Two cops approached and Blake gave Abbey’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. One uniformed officer packed a solid beer gut and buzz cut hair. The other, a younger female with her dark hair pulled into a tight bun stood just as tall at about six feet and looked police-academy fit.

“I’m Officer Holland,” the heavy-set one said. “This is my partner, Officer Brinkman.” He pulled a small notepad from his back pocket. “Miss, are you the one that—”

“You have to hurry,” Abbey said, pulling out of Blake’s grasp and moving toward the door. “There’s a man out by the parking lot. He was attacked. Stabbed. He needs help!”

“Whoa, whoa,” the cop said, “Stay right there. “Where is this guy?” he asked while thumbing the walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

“Near the artist entrance. I watched him get tackled by two guys, then one stabbed him. You have to hurry!” She started moving again and the female cop reached out and snagged her arm.

“Slow down,” she said. “We need to make sure it’s safe out there. We’ve got officers who’ll find the man if he’s there.”

The other cop gave some orders and directions over the walkie-talkie.

“
If
he’s there? Where else would he be?” Abbey lifted her arms like she didn’t see any other options. “Trust me, he wasn’t walking away from what I witnessed. The knife was…” She swallowed and shivered, looked to him for help.

“You okay?” She nodded, but she still had that freaked out look in her eyes.

“And who are you?” the same cop asked, his brows pulling together in the middle.

Blake took a measured breath. “My name’s Blake St. John. This is Abbey Washington.”

The cop took notes in the small pad. “And you two are…” he gestured between them, “…together?”

Abbey took a step away from him and Blake wanted to punch the guy.

“No,” she said. “Our bosses are married so I guess you could say we work together.” She kept glancing toward the doors, craning her neck like the people chasing her might burst through any second.

“What exactly happened?” the second cop asked. She kept a sharp eye on Abbey.

Abbey ran her hand over her straight shoulder-length hair and took a deep breath. “I was about to enter the back door near the artist entrance and a man flew threw just before I opened it. We bumped into each other and went down. I noticed a cut on his face and I thought it happened when we hit each other. But then he got up and started running. Two guys came out a second later and started chasing him. They tackled him near the first row of cars at that entrance. One of them stabbed him.”

“Stabbed him?” The first cop said, looking up from his notes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Abbey nodded. “I heard him scream. I saw the knife. He yelled at me to run and get help. I tried to go in the same door, but it was locked so I started running. One of the guys pulled out a gun and started chasing me. He fired at me.”

“Can you tell me how many shots you heard?” Brinkman asked.

“I don’t know. Two. Maybe three. I’m not sure,” Abbey replied.

The cops glanced at each other and Officer Brinkman stepped away and spoke into the microphone on her shoulder.

“So they had a knife and a gun?” The older cop busily scribbled in his pad.

“Yes. Both. I didn’t stick around to see what else they had hidden in their pockets. I ran like hell.” She swallowed and started shaking. “I’ll never forget that man’s face as long as I live.” She took an unsteady breath.

Blake didn’t give a shit what Abbey or the cops thought and wrapped his arm around her again. She didn’t stop him and the big cop lifted a bushy eyebrow.

“Did they find him yet? He’s got to be there. I don’t think he could walk.”

“Find who yet?”

Blake glanced over his shoulder to see Troy and Julie coming closer. Good deal. Troy would know exactly how to handle this. As usual, their appearance caused a stir with onlookers, not just because they made a hell of a striking couple, but Troy’s wife was mega-famous. Though his boss could’ve been a model or actor with his rugged good looks, he had always been a private man. Learning to live in the public eye was the price Troy paid for being married to the woman he loved.

“What’s going on?” Julie asked, landing at Abbey’s side.

Abbey pulled away from him again, but Blake refused to be crushed by the abandonment.

“What happened?” Julie eyed Blake and he glanced at Troy. Abbey might be leery of saying anything since Julie was a victim of a bullet wound a year ago.

“Whoa. Everybody slow down,” the first cop said as his partner returned. “And I need you two to—” He’d lifted a hand to gesture to Troy and Julie to back off then did a double take. “Are you Julie Fraser?” His gaze widened a bit in the usual reaction when people came face to face with her. Nicknamed “America’s Sweetheart,” Julie had become Hollywood royalty at a young age. Her honey blond hair and striking blue eyes turned heads wherever she went, but it was her down-to-earth personality and sense of humor that kept people coming back for more.

“Yes, I am. Abbey works for me. What happened?” Julie asked. “Are you all right?” She held Abbey at arms’ length and gave her a thorough once over.

“If you don’t mind, I need to ask her a few more questions.” The officer focused on Abbey before his walkie-talkie squawked and he lifted it from his belt.

“No sign of anyone here,” a voice said.

“That’s impossible,” Abbey insisted. “He was there a few minutes ago…at the artist entrance. I’m sure of it.” She pointed in the direction she’d come from and the second cop used her walkie-talkie. As this took place, more and more black-and-white cruisers pulled up to the front entrance.

Blake hated the fear in Abbey’s eyes. He liked her smiling and carefree. Not that she lived her life always smiling and carefree, especially when he was around. She guarded herself more than anyone he’d ever known. Even his twin brother. But he’d caught her smiling and laughing a few times when she didn’t know he was around.

She wreaked havoc on a guy’s ego.

“It’s taking forever,” she said. “Did they find him? Those men have to be long gone by now with all the police cars here.”

The second officer’s walkie squawked. “On further inspection, we’ve got blood, but no body.”

Her eyes went wide. “What? He has to be there! I saw him. He was on the ground.”

“Let’s go take a look,” the officer said, letting Abbey take them to the artist entrance with an escort of five officers around them, all with weapons drawn. Abbey’s gaze darted across the whole area and Blake took it all in just as his boss did. Troy never missed a thing.

It took a couple of minutes to walk around the building and as they neared the exact spot, Abbey got more and more agitated.

“This is it,” she said, picking up her pace. “We collided right outside that door at the end on the left.” She rushed ahead, leading the way, because it was just like Abbey to want to help someone. “And they tackled him over there, by those cars.” She pointed toward a row of cars that included a red Mustang, a black Mercedes convertible and two white Escalades. Parking lights overhead had turned on as the evening got darker.

The officers exchanged a glance and followed her, just as other officers wearing body armor came out from between two other dark SUVs.

“Did you get him?” Abbey asked the officers. She pushed past them.

“Nobody to get, but we found blood,” one said. “Which direction were you running? We’ll start searching for bullets.”

“That way.” Abbey pointed toward the main entrance. “I stayed along the curve of the wall.” Shaking her head, she moved forward. “Oh my God. They must have taken him.” She looked around, clearly searching for something. Or someone. She swallowed and Blake saw her chest to rise and fall with labored breaths. She was about to have another panic attack.

Blake moved right in front of her. “It’s okay. Abbey, it’s okay.” He set his hands on her shoulders and searched for a reason, any reason that might justify the missing man. “Maybe someone else came and helped him. Maybe he crawled out and got help.” More likely, she was right and the guys who knifed him took him and were long gone.

“We know something happened,” one of the new cops said. “We’ve got blood.”

She was already shaking her head. “They took him,” she murmured. She turned to the group of cops staring at her. “They took him. He told me to run. Told me to bring help fast and I didn’t.”

“It was kind of hard with a man shooting at you and chasing you,” Julie reminded her.

“I’m guessing he was still alive or they’d probably have left him,” Troy replied. He’d been listening to the conversation, watching Abbey and scanning the scene. A man of few words, he said the one thing that everyone was thinking. “Either way, the guy is not in a good place.”

Kim Jacobs picked up her luggage at the LAX baggage claim and rolled her large Gucci suitcase out to the curb among the other travelers arriving in Los Angeles. Families, couples and singles all jostled for space as they moved toward the curb or crosswalk. The stench of exhaust fumes smacked her nostrils and added a nasty layer to the uncomfortable heat as dusk fell on the City of Angels.