Imminent Danger (Adrenaline Highs) (38 page)

Right before Abbey had entered through the back door, the walkie had squawked and the men from upstairs warned the downstairs dude where to grab her. Blake had bought an extra minute with a whispered, “Copy” into the mic. But now, as both men ran downstairs, their flashlights bobbing in the darkness, the tiny window of relief vanished in a thick fog of fear. What if they found Abbey and she didn’t get a shot off quick enough? What if, what if? There were too many possibilities to consider.

Blake squinted into the darkness from his hiding spot behind the sofa. One thing in his favor. The place was mostly boarded up and clearly lacking electricity.

“What the fuck? Benz? Where are you? Check downstairs,” a guy ordered.

Yeah, that voice definitely belonged to the man named Kwami. The man who’d sliced off Brendan’s earlobe. He’d kept up a running conversation as he’d cut Bren. Kwami had talked about Bren’s choice of studs and since they looked like shit on Bren, they should just come off. Then he’d laughed. Blake’s stomach rolled as it always did when he thought about that night. It had been the worst night of his life. He’d actually felt the pain in his own ear at the same time. It had been a weird-ass feeling.

A flashlight beam briefly illuminated another man before he moved out of sight. He was a big-ass son of a bitch. Probably one of the guys he’d tangled with in the garage and most likely the brother of the man Abbey had hurt. He needed to keep this guy miles away from her.

He didn’t have much time. Once they discovered he wasn’t the one tied and gagged downstairs they’d start searching the house. If he didn’t take them out one at time, he wouldn’t win so he had to work fast.

Kwami’s walkie squawked and the other man’s voice came over the line. “The kid is gone. Benz is unconscious down here. He’s bleeding.”

“Find them. Work your way up. I’ll start here. They won’t get far. He’s too fucked up to go anywhere fast.”

True words and Blake hated them.

At least Abbey had a weapon and could protect herself. She had a good chance if she stayed put and kept the gun in position and ready to fire.

Kwami moved into the next room, it could’ve been an office or den, and Blake eased from behind the sofa, his knife in hand, and stood along the staircase ready for him to come back out.

A shot rang out from Abbey’s end of the house and Blake’s heart stuttered. Kwami burst through the doorway and Blake didn’t have a chance to do anything other than react. He slammed into him from the side and they both hit the ground, a gun skittering on the hardwood floor. Fire sizzled in Blake’s chest as he slashed up with his knife the same way he’d done with the man downstairs. He came away with the knife and they tussled as he tried to land a second blow.

Another shot rang out, but this one split the wood floor right next to him. “Don’t move a fucking muscle or she dies,” a voice said.

Kwami took the moment of Blake’s hesitation to slam him with a fist, and Blake landed hard on his side. Fresh fire ate up his chest and he struggled for air. He still had the knife in his hand underneath him. The other guy had Abbey in front of him, his arm wrapped around her neck and her hands fighting his beefy arm so she could breathe. Kwami swayed as he stood and just then seemed to notice his wound. “What the fuck? I’m bleeding.”

“Join the fucking club. Bitch shot me in the shoulder,” the second guy said. He kept his gun aimed at Blake. “I won’t miss this time.”

“No!” Kwami said. “This prick is mine.” A murderous look morphed his face into rage and Abbey screamed as he moved toward Blake. She dropped, dead weight in the guy’s arms and that’s all Blake saw before Kwami came at him. The man grabbed his collar and pulled his fist back and Blake struck out with his blade, nailing him on the same side, deep and hard. Kwami landed the punch and pain exploded in Blake’s head as he hit the floor again, but as Kwami went to grab him a second time, the man teetered and looked down. Blake must have hit something vital because blood gushed out of the wound. Kwami swayed right before something slammed into his head and knocked him sideways. He fell hard, out cold and Blake looked up.

A woman staggered back, holding a fireplace poker in a death grip. He spotted Abbey next. She stood by the wall, a bloody knife locked in her hands as, wide-eyed, she waited for the man on the floor to attack. Holding his throat, he tried to stem the blood seeping through his fingers as he gasped for air.

Blake put his palm out to the woman, barefoot, brunette and filthy in a sequined top and black skirt. “It’s okay,” he croaked, rolling over gingerly to get to his knees.

She grabbed the banister for support as she looked around. “Where are they? There’s more of them.” She sounded on the verge of hysteria as she lifted the poker again, her gaze scanning the rooms surrounding the staircase.

“This is it. It’s okay.”

She took a ragged breath before easing down to the steps. “I want to go home now.” She looked up at him with tortured eyes as if he could just whisk her away and grant her wish like some cosmic genie.

Where the hell had she come from?

“Help’s coming,” he told her as sirens stopped in front of the house. “Abbey.” Blake barely got her name out as he crawled toward her just as cops burst into the room, their weapons drawn as they yelled out orders. None of which registered with Blake. All that mattered was seeing Abbey alive.

Abbey rushed to him, her eyes bright with panic and fear. “Lie down, lie down. Don’t move!” She eased him down with his head in her lap and she stroked her fingers through his hair. God, it felt good. Every stinking inch of him was on fire, but her touch gave him a comfort that nothing else ever could.

“Hey.” Troy crouched next to him. “Paramedics are on their way in. You doing okay?”

“Don’t I look okay?” Blake mumbled, his jaw clenched tight against the pain.

“You look like shit, kid.” He pinned Abbey with a hard gaze. “And you…you’re in a boatload of crap. Just wait until I tell Julie what you did.”

“Leave her alone,” Blake said. “She saved my bacon.” He glanced up to find her smiling down at him, her eyes bright with tears.

“I think we saved each other’s bacon,” she whispered. “It’s a good thing I like bacon.”

“Another joke…” Blake grinned through his swollen, split lip. “She should get her own show on Comedy Central.” A tear slipped down Abbey’s cheek and Blake squeezed her hand.

“Don’t cry,” he told her. “S’gonna be okay.” The room started to spin too much for his liking.

Paramedics came in and Troy moved back as they crouched next to Blake. “How ya feeling?” one guy asked as he took his pulse. Another guy readied a needle for an IV.

“Prolly about as good as I look.” Everyone’s heads started moving with the room and Blake saw the writing on the wall. “Don’t mind me. I think I might just pass out for a sec.” His words got thick and slow on his dry tongue. “I’ll catch…you all…lat—”

Stephanie’s alive. Stephanie’s alive.
The words ran a continuous loop in Kim’s head.

Leo pulled up to the emergency room and she hopped out while he found parking. She told the nurse behind the glass partition that she was Stephanie’s sister and they let her in.

Kim found her sitting up on a bed in the last treatment room, a blanket covering her from the waist down. Her breath caught when she saw Stephanie’s face. The fading bruise along her cheekbone and the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes said she’d been through hell. She wore the same clothes from the last night they spent together in Carl’s club. Stephanie’s face crinkled up as Kim moved toward her and pulled her close.

“You’re safe now,” Kim whispered. It was the only thing she could say. As much as she wanted to know what happened, she didn’t want to push Stephanie into reliving whatever trauma she’d been through. “You’re safe.” She noticed the IV that fed into Stephanie’s hand and could only imagine the antibiotics and any other medications she’d need to counteract disease.

Stephanie wiped her eyes and pulled back. “I think they’re going to keep me tonight for observation. Then I can leave tomorrow with some preventative meds.”

“That’s good.” Kim gave her a reassuring smile, trying her best to be positive.

“The police asked a lot of questions about Carl,” Stephanie said.

“What kind of questions?”

“Like…did I know his VIP table at the club had several microphones placed in the booth?”

Kim’s eyes widened as she rifled through memories of their conversation in the club. “So Carl heard you talk about his mistress and that you planned to divorce him?” The implication kicked in. “You’re telling me the police think he was the one who arranged to have you kidnapped?” That seemed like a stretch.

“Apparently, my husband is involved in more than I thought. Since he wasn’t sure what I knew besides his affair, they think he opted to just get rid of me. And make a profit while he was at it.”

Stephanie wrapped her arms around Kim’s waist and they held each other tight.

Kim couldn’t believe Carl would go to those lengths. Actually…come to think of it, she could. It was just scary as hell. “Where is Carl?”

“He’s on his way. You beat him here. I think the police plan to arrest him.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I called my sister and she thinks I should stay with her for a while. She’s making airline reservations for me tomorrow. She wants me as far away from him as possible.”

“Wow. New York. Tomorrow.” The surprises kept coming.

A few minutes later, the nurse came in with a rape kit and asked Kim to leave.

Kim found Leo outside the double doors of the E.R. leaning against the wall. She didn’t think too much about it when she walked right into his arms and let him hold her. His solid warmth gave her security she hadn’t realized she needed until right that moment.

Two days later, Leo drove Stella to LAX with Kim sitting shotgun. He buzzed into the lot nearest her terminal, parked, shut the car down then ran a nervous hand through his hair.

Kim had spent nearly every minute with Stephanie before taking her to the airport yesterday. Carl had been arrested not long after Kim and Leo turned in the flash drive. Incriminating evidence implicating him and his partner—a man named Michael Facinetti, who was part of a large crime family—in a human trafficking ring led the judge to deny his bond. Investigators had found hidden microphones at his private booth in the club and theorized that Carl heard Stephanie talking to Kim that last night before she disappeared. He worried that she’d not only discovered his mistress, but his illegal activity as well. Police were still searching for Facinetti.

With nothing left to keep Kim in town, this was the big goodbye. There’d been no melodramatic moments from their other night together. Kim acted like the sex never even happened. Like she hadn’t blown his mind under the sheets. Or out of them.

“You’re sure you can’t stay longer? I’ll double your salary,” he said. It was possible he already tried this route, but he was willing to try again.

Kim canted her head to the side. “I don’t think I had a salary to start with,” she reminded him with a soft smile. She got that pitying look in her eyes and Leo looked out the window as he wiped his palms against his jeans to keep from reaching for her. A giant sinkhole began opening up in his chest and with it came a feeling of abandonment that Leo had never experienced. “Besides, I don’t want to be around for another earthquake. You couldn’t pay me to live in this city.” She exhaled a short breath. “You’re going to be fine,” she told him quietly. “You can call me anytime you want. Day or night.”

Sure, he could call her, but would he ever see again? “As long as I remember the time difference,” Leo replied.

She grinned and her pretty green eyes sparkled. “It would be nice, but if you don’t, I won’t hold it against you. Not unless it becomes a habit.” She patted his knee. “You’re going to be all right. You’ve already got people interested in all the properties. You’ll get those sold off and we’ll take it one step at a time.”

But she wouldn’t be here to help him with it. He wasn’t comfortable sharing this crap with anyone on his team and he didn’t want pity from his few real friends. Kim had worked her butt off and methodically taken the steps to keep him out of financial hot water.

He had to downsize. Dramatically.

The one thing he couldn’t budge on was the Marion Institute, but he still hadn’t mentioned it to Kim. He was still in the hole for forty-one grand with them too. His stomach cramped.

She checked her watch. “I guess I should get going,” she said, but she didn’t make a move to leave.

“Yeah. Security can be a bitch sometimes.” They’d left extra early in case of traffic and they’d breezed in with plenty of time to spare.

Kim unfastened her seat belt and turned toward him. “Maybe that movie offer you were telling me about will come through. That should help even you out a little more.” She hesitated as if she meant to say something, but got out of the car instead. Leo pulled her bag from the backseat and turned to find her standing next to him. “Thank you,” she said.

He didn’t expect to hear that. “Why are you thanking
me?
All I did was put you to work—for no money I might add.”

Her soft smile cut a path of something warm and unfamiliar through his heart. “You gave me a place to stay after…” She looked down. “You put me up and took me shopping—”