Imminent Danger (Adrenaline Highs) (23 page)

BOOK: Imminent Danger (Adrenaline Highs)
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“You just missed the officer in charge. He was really nice. He rode with me in the ambulance and said he didn’t want me to have to come into the station if he could avoid it.”

“I think we have Troy to thank for that. I’ll have to send the guy a thank you note.” That got a whisper of a smile and Blake squeezed her hand. “Are you going to be okay telling me what happened? Because Troy and I need to know too.”

She nodded. “I know. Can it wait until we get out of here?”

Blake nodded. “Sure. Not a problem.” He didn’t want to rush her.

The doctor entered the room and Blake stayed as Abbey got three stitches to close the gap from a bullet. Blake didn’t think he could ever be as angry as when he’d seen his brother get cut in front of him, but he’d been wrong. Because he was pissed. Really pissed. He wanted these guys to pay for what they did to her. He wanted them behind bars for a good long time.

Abbey left the hospital in a set of green scrubs that made her eyes pop like dark gems.

Blake helped her into the Explorer then checked his watch. Way past midnight. He cranked the engine and started out. A mile down the road, he spotted a motel with a vacancy and pulled into the lot.

“Why are you stopping?” Abbey asked, concern evident in her voice.

“The Explorer was about to overheat when I pulled up to the E.R.” That was bound to happen after pushing the seventeen-year-old truck so hard. “The engine’s got to cool down if we plan on going anywhere. I’m afraid it’s not going to get us home tonight.” At least they’d both had food at the hospital when a nurse brought them sandwiches.

“Oh.” She nodded, but he saw her reluctance.

“It’s okay. C’mon,” he whispered. “Let’s crash for the night. I promise I’ll keep you safe, Ab. I’m not letting anything else happen to you.”

Swallowing, Abbey nodded and Blake hustled to open her door. She eased out of the Explorer, grimaced when her feet hit the ground and grabbed his arm for support.

Blake snatched his athletic bag from the back seat and tossed it over his shoulder, then took Abbey’s hand and led her inside. He checked them in while Abbey stopped in the ladies room. Five minutes later, he ushered her in their room and flipped on a light. No frills, two double beds, navy and maroon, but it was clean.

Abbey stood at the end of one of the beds as if she didn’t know what to do first. Blake set his bag down, moved in front of her and took her in his arms. Under the sweat and fear he caught the faint citrus scent of her. Her arms came around him tight and her shoulders trembled.

“Can you tell me what happened back at the audition?”

She pulled away, inhaled and exhaled, her forehead creased with the memory. “He was waiting for me at the callback. I never even made it up the stairs. He told me we were in a different room downstairs and when I walked in he…he—” She took in a shaky breath. “He grabbed me. It was the guy with the knife from the Sports Center, but I didn’t recognize him at first. He’d shaved off his mustache and he didn’t have the cap on. I tried to fight him, but he put something over my mouth and I couldn’t breathe. I don’t remember what happened after that. I woke up in the trunk of a car. We were moving. He tossed me in a room when we got there and a few minutes later he came back with the other guy from the Sports Center. The guard.”

Kwami.

“Did you get names? Anything that might help us identify them?

“Y-yes,” she said. “Damon. He was the one who knifed the man at the Sports Center.” Her chin trembled, she took another deep breath and his fucking heart broke at the catch in her voice. “The guy who tried to… The guy I hurt.” She closed her eyes tight. “There were three more…” She pressed her lips together as she thought harder. “Benz, Herrera and one other guy that no one named. He’s Damon’s brother. I told the police officer.”

A fresh round of rage sizzled through Blake and close on its heels was that same pulse pounding fear. “Ab?”

Her green eyes met his gaze.

“Did he, did one of them…?” He couldn’t even put it in words.

“Not the way you think,” she said softly. “It was close, but, no. I got out.”

Blake’s relief came out in a rough exhale. He wanted to help her, comfort her, do something and he felt so impotent, because this was Abbey who never let him in, never let him get close.

She finished telling him everything and the story tore him to pieces. The fact that he hadn’t been able to prevent it, that she’d had to go through it… He wrapped her in his arms again and held her close. That she let him meant more to him than anything else in the world.

Blake fought back his own emotion, but his unsteady breaths were a dead giveaway. “I was so fucking scared,” he admitted quietly. He ran his hand down her hair, cupped her head against his shoulder.

She hiccupped a breath and nodded. “Me too.”

He barely heard her. She was so fucking brave and he was so proud of her. “You did good, you know?” She needed to know. Needed to realize that no matter how she got out, she’d been justified. “I’m so proud of you,” he said quietly. “I mean, I’m pissed that you didn’t wait for me, but I’m so fucking proud that you got away.” His answer came in a sniff and subtle nod. “Let’s get you to bed okay?”

Pulling away from him, she wiped her eyes. “I need to take a shower and get this—” she shuddered, “—off me.” She wasn’t referring to the clothes and his anger boiled hot again. Moving around him, she headed for the bathroom.

“I brought my bag in,” Blake said. “I’ve got a T-shirt and sweats in there. You can wear them if you want. They’ll be big, but they’re clean.”

She gave him a shy smile and it was like a rainbow after a hurricane. “Troy is rubbing off on you.”

That made him grin. “Really? You think so?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I think so.” Her smile faded and she moved into the bathroom as Blake got fresh clothes from his bag.

Chapter Fifteen

Abbey had wanted to take a shower and scrub off the grime from that filthy man’s hands, but the spray was too hard on her skin so she’d settled for a shallow bath since she couldn’t get her stitches wet. After eating an apple that Blake had snagged from the front desk, she felt marginally better. Nearly every inch of her hurt. The livid bruise on her cheek made the scratches look like nothing. The welts had gone down and Blake had made two trips to the ice machine so she had ice packs on the worst of her bruises and her ankle.

Blake’s sweats sat on the counter, but she’d thought long and hard while cleaning up in the tub and she’d come to a decision. If she didn’t make the choice to move on with her life and overcome her fears, she faced the terrifying prospect of losing the choice completely.

How could she have thought that being a victim once already meant she was free of it happening again? She’d been living in a bubble of her own creation, tiptoeing through life in the hope that if she didn’t acknowledge other people, they wouldn’t notice her.

Dancing gave her the freedom she craved. Music lifted her spirit, and letting the music flow through her kept her sane. When she danced, she was no longer a victim. When she danced she was free of the fear and shame she always battled. She was the music. She was in control.

She never pictured this moment. Never imagined reaching the day when she’d let someone inside of her. Sure, she’d been attracted to Blake from the first day she’d met him, but attraction never had her thinking about sex. Very little had her thinking about sex.

Abbey brushed her teeth and combed out her hair with new purchases from the front desk. Her face was a lost cause. Blake might not even want what she had planned for him tonight, but maybe he’d do it—her—as a favor. She’d rather lose her virginity to a friend and someone she liked than face the alternative. With these men after her, she couldn’t waste time wondering if they’d catch her again. Because if they did, they wouldn’t let her go a second time. She knew that deep in her soul.

Coming out of the bathroom, Abbey spotted Blake in the far bed, holding one of those emergency kit ice bags to his cheek. He sat up against the headboard wearing his same T-shirt with the sheet pulled up to his waist. His folded jeans took a spot on the chair in the corner of the room. He’d turned down the blankets on the second bed. The gesture put her heart in a vise. He knew her well enough to know she liked her space, needed it. She wasn’t good at being touched unless she instigated it. Extreme highs and lows prompted those times and he knew it.

“Did you call Troy?” she asked, placing his sweat bottoms on the bed.

His gaze lifted from her legs to her eyes. “Yeah. He said the police are searching the estate now. I told him we were crashing here for the night.” He set the ice pack on the end table. There was something else he wasn’t telling her, but at the moment she didn’t care. Walking past the readied bed, she slid into the sheets next to him. He tried to hide the surprise on his face as he scooted toward the other side of the bed, but she saw the question in his eyes.

What the hell is she doing?

Abbey turned on her side, on her good leg and faced him, tucking her hands under the pillow as she watched him. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

He nodded, his eyes full of emotion she couldn’t name. Worry, compassion, all the things she’d seen already, but something else too. He didn’t seem to get what she meant though, so maybe she’d have to show him. If she only knew how. Or where to start…

Kissing. Yes, they’d kissed already. Amazing, heart-stopping kisses that not only stole her breath, they nearly stole her sanity. Granted, having nothing to compare to, she couldn’t be sure, but just from their little interlude in the park, Abbey realized she was dealing with an expert when it came to kissing.

“How many women have you kissed?”

He leaned back, his eyes widened. “What kind of question is that? I don’t know. I’ve never kept a tally.”

“I was just curious. You’re really good at it and I figure practice makes perfect so…”

“If you’ve never kissed before, how would you know I’m good at it?” The half curve of his lips screamed sex appeal as he shifted lower, crooked his elbow and leaned on his hand.

“Call it woman’s intuition. I have a feeling.”

He watched her for a second then nodded. “Okay,” he admitted. “Maybe I’ve kissed a few girls. But it’s been a long time.”

She waited for more and when he didn’t elaborate, she pressed. “Why?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I think it’s wrong to kiss one person when I’m thinking about another.”

Did he mean her? She blinked and her heart stumbled along unevenly. But this was a good thing if he meant what he said. She crooked her elbow the same way so they faced each other more evenly. “Maybe we could do it again. The kissing,” she clarified.

They were in a bed. She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t stupid. Bed plus kissing equaled sex, or it should anyway. Of course, the fact that she’d been beaten up might still seriously damage her chances.

His brows quirked again and that look of concern clouded his eyes. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea right now?”

“Because my face looks like hamburger or because—”

“Jesus. No!” he said, cutting her off. “Because you went through hell today and I think you should probably rest, that’s all.”

Life was too short for that. “What if I don’t want to rest?” She glided her thumb across the dark stubble on his jaw. He was so damn cute and sexy. And young. Two full years younger than her. No, it wasn’t a lot, but the age difference had always bothered her a little until tonight, when she figured out it’s not the age that matters, but the person.

“Ab,” he warned her. It was very similar to the way she’d said his name a few days ago and she smiled.

“Blake,” she repeated in the same tone. Then she went for it. She leaned in and brushed her lips across his. Heat sizzled up her center just like the last time she kissed him. She had been a little panicked before, but now she felt a certain amount of power, a certain knowledge that she affected him whether she intended to or not.

Her courage multiplied and she eased her tongue across the fullness of his bottom lip. He groaned and leaned in farther, took more possession of her mouth as his tongue stroked out and met hers. Her pulse revved faster and her breathing turned erratic.

He pulled back, his own breathing unsteady, his eyes electric blue and wide open as he watched her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… I… Jesus.” He moved away, landed on his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Talk to me,” she whispered.

He swallowed and met her gaze. “Talk to you?” he asked. The question almost sounded like a warning, but he nodded and never looked away. “Okay. I want to touch you so bad, I can barely think straight and all I do is worry that if I reach out, if I try and lay a finger on you, you’ll run. That would kill me, Ab. I want you so much. I want to show you how it feels to be touched the right way.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “How’s that for a conversation starter?”

Not what she expected, that was for sure. She copied his move and lay on her back next to him. She owed him the truth. After everything he’d gone through for her, it didn’t seem like a lot to ask.

“I’m sorry.” She bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You’re always so good about giving me space and I just figured…” That he looked at every woman the way he looked at her? That he teased other women the way he teased her? “I don’t know what I figured.”

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