In the Still of the Night:Sexy Romantic Suspense (Book 2 The Blonde Barracuda's Sizzling Suspense Series) (12 page)

She felt, rather than saw the quick man behind Sanchez. The one they’d called Chang. The whistle of air signaled his heel before it caught her on her shoulder, fortunately missing the joint. Momentary numbness ricocheted down her arm. She used the pause to leap in the air catching Chang by surprise with a heel high hook. At the same time that she saw the knife in Sanchez’s hand, she heard a chilling sound—the traditional kihap yell of the Korean Master Hapkido fighter. She recalculated her odds. Five against one? Including a big man with a knife, plus a master martial artist? Fuck.

To her surprise, Sanchez screamed, his knife flying across the alley—the result of a round-house kick that landed on the big man’s wrist. An eagle-beak strike to Chang’s face elicited a shriek of pain. It took her a quick second to assess the Hapkido fighter who was dressed in black. She took the chance that by some freak interference of the gods he was friend not foe. She decided she may as well take the chance. If she was wrong she was likely dead anyway. She advanced on Sanchez who roared forward, an enraged bull, fury twisting his features into an ugly mask. Rolling to the ground, she feinted to the left then in a signature move Jake taught her, she drove her steel-heeled boot up between his legs and finished him off with a roundhouse kick to the side of his head.

Looking up, she saw her partner in crime take down Chang with a stunning hook kick to the jaw. Glancing at the alley of writhing bleeding bodies she caught the gaze of her would be ally who shrugged and asked, “What is it they say about discretion?”

She hooted a sharp laugh and took off down the alley, the man dressed in black hard on her heels.

Chapter 11

They ran down the alley, Lexie in the lead when the man behind her shouted, “To the left!”

Lexie hesitated for a split second, then sprinted after him. Following his tall slim body, she noted that he had the physique of a runner and given that she was panting for breath, his pace confirmed it.

When she called out, needing to catch her breath, he quickly stopped. Grabbing for her arm, he apologized.

“I’m sorry. Can you make it for another block? My car is just around the corner.”

Lexie nodded and motioned him forward. “Just got a catch in my side. I’m okay now.”

As they turned the corner he pulled a key fob out of his pocket and clicked the lights on a late model Jag down the block. Amazingly, he went to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Struck by his manners at a time like this, she was late considering whether it was wise to get in a car with a total stranger. By the time she’d thought it over, he was in the driver’s seat cranking up the ignition.

“I wasn’t sure where your car was, but I presumed it was farther away than mine. I can take you to it now or I can take you home. But first let me ask, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? That was a punishing blow you took to your shoulder.”

Lexie stared at the Asian man. His features were Korean, which had been confirmed by his knowledge of Hapkido. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties given the streaks of gray in his short dark hair. He was taller than many Asian men and she’d already noted his strong wiry physique. But it was his clothes that caught her attention. Given their situation they were incongruous at best. His black slacks were a fine worsted wool, and his long sleeved shirt open at the neck was patterned silk. Given the Jaguar and his unlikely costume, Lexie decided that she’d either gotten in the car with an apparition or more likely a member of the Korean crime syndicate. Who else would be in the District at this time of night dressed as he was?

He met her gaze and his dark eyes twinkled.

“Before you wonder who is this strange man who burst into your life, let me introduce myself. My name is Peter Kim. I am a businessman. I own property in this area and was coming to check on it when I heard the altercation in the alley. While you clearly had the situation in hand, I felt that big brute pulling a knife was shall we say, unsportsmanlike?”

Lexie was rarely without words but could only stare at the dignified man with the cultured voice, trying to square the image with the man who’d leaped into a back alley fight with a loud kihap. She fought for her composure trying to mimic his élan.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kim. Please excuse the way I’m dressed. My name is—”

He held up his hand. “First, please call me Peter. And I know who you are. You are the famous Alexis Beloi or should I say ‘infamous’ Alexis Beloi. And by the way, don’t apologize for your clothing. You look lovely in pink. May I presume that you were attempting to fit in with the locals when you were jumped by a gang of pimps?”

Whether it was from the adrenalin coursing through her body or the idea of possibly being in a $150,000 automobile of a mobster with a sly sense of humor, Lexie burst out laughing. Peter joined her. After a moment she wiped her eyes and smiled at him.

“I don’t have a clue who you are or how you know who I am, but thank you. I’m always confident taking on a bunch of hoodlums but I don’t know when I’ve been happier to hear a kihap—after I realized that you’d come to help me, not finish me off.”

“You are most welcome, Ms. Beloi. As I said it is my pleasure. To reiterate, I own property in the area, and there are not many businessmen in the District who don’t know of the ‘Blonde Barracuda.’”

Lexie shrugged.

“I don’t know what to say except thank you. I would like to talk more but I am concerned about the young man who was with me tonight. I really need to get home to make sure that he is all right.”

Peter eased the spectacular automobile onto the road.

“Of course. Tell me. Where would you like me to take you? I’m pleased to take you home….”

“No, that isn’t necessary. I parked my car over on Geary. Dewa may even be there, although he had orders to grab the cable car if we needed to separate.”

The Korean man nodded, as if that explained things.

“I wondered why you were alone. Even for someone with your skills and reputation, a single woman in the heart of the District at 2 a.m. is not safe. Particularly behind an establishment like the Rising Sun.”

Lexie couldn’t keep her annoyance from sweeping over her. As though anyone werewas safe in that area. She said as mildly as she could manage.

“I don’t think that anyone is safe in that area at night. But if it is necessary to be there, my skills are useful.”

Peter raised one hand off the leather steering wheel.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound patronizing. And you are correct. No one is safe there, including people—men and women—who have our skills.”

Lexie appreciated his quick agreement, but was relieved to see her car and a little troubled that Dewa was nowhere in sight. She hoped he was home safe. She turned to the genteel man who looked and talked as if they were returning from a pleasant dinner in a fancy restaurant, not a knife fight in the alley behind a notorious erotic spa.

She extended her hand, “Thank you again, Peter. I appreciate your help.”

He held her hand for a moment too long, then seemed to realize his mistake.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to leave without seeing if we could meet. Perhaps for lunch? I would like to discuss some of the issues we are facing in the District.”

By now Lexie was feeling completely flummoxed. Who the hell was this guy? As if reading her mind, Peter reached in his pocket and withdrew a slim case and handed her a card.

“This is my business card. Feel free to look me up. And if you decide I am not the grim reaper in disguise, I hope you will consider lunch, perhaps in a day or two?”

Lexie tucked the card in her hip hugger shorts, reminded once again of the odd juxtaposition in the way they were dressed and gave him a helpless grin.

“Heck, why not? I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”

She quickly opened the door and hopped out. She reached inside her halter flinching at what was sure to be a bruise on her nipple and pulled out her car key. Without looking at the man in the sleek automobile beside her, she opened the door of her 1958 Camaro with a grateful sigh, and turned on the engine. As she neared home, she thanked god that this horrible night was over. Minutes later, seeing the lights in the dojo, and the police cruiser parked in the driveway, she sighed. Then again, maybe not.

~~~

Lexie parked alongside the police car and dragged her aching body out of her Camaro. In the short time it took to drive home, the muscles in her neck and shoulder where Chang had struck her tightened painfully. By the time she arrived she was beginning to feel the effects of a four against one sparring match, that she reminded herself with a grimace had also involved weapons. Seeing Master Wan in the doorway, she wearily pushed aside the thought of the hot bath that had preoccupied her thoughts on the ride home.

When she got inside, it was worse than she’d expected. In addition to Master Wan, she saw a stern Dan Rourke and a troubled-looking Mark Peterson. Standing against the wall was a clearly shaken Ming, tear tracks marking her pale cheeks. Beside her, looking almost as pale and visibly upset, stood Dewa.

Bracing herself, Lexie looked to Master Wan and swallowed hard.

“Are you going to tell Jake?”

A very familiar and dangerously low voice came from the office entrance.

“No, but you are.”

Chapter 12

Lexie had always known that that Jake was a powerful man. Men who served on his special ops teams told her he could reduce a platoon of hardened soldiers to quaking silence with a glance. First-hand she’d seen him overrule a room of Army brass who wanted him to pull away from a mission. But he had never looked at her the way he was looking at her now. Like an owl eyeing a very small mouse. She could only imagine what she looked like—shocking pink hooker clothes and all. Actually she didn’t have to imagine it. She saw it in his eyes. They were dark blue stormy with anger and another emotion she couldn’t read. His jaw was rigid, his brows met in a deep furrow. She couldn’t see his hands but if they weren’t clenched in fists she’d be surprised. The corded muscles on his neck were like twisted ropes. He exuded the aura of a dangerously powerful man who was furious—at her.

She stammered. “I… I thought you were in Washington.”

Without taking his hard gaze off of her, he was silent for a long moment. “Yes, I can see that you did.”

Lexie shrugged. She was damn tired and not up to an argument, especially in front of this audience. A quiver at the corner of Jake’s eye telegraphed his concern.

`”Are you hurt?”

She shrugged. “A little banged up, but no worse than usual after a sparring match.”

Dan Rourke broke in, his voice gruff with concern.

“Jake, Lexie, I’m sorry to do this. You look like hell, Lexie. But given what Dewa has told us, we’re going to need to ask you some questions, Lexie. Tonight.”

Jake turned to him and nodded.

“Can you give us thirty minutes, Dan? So that Lexie can get cleaned up?”

The burly officer nodded.

“Hell, yeah. Take your time.”

In two powerful strides, Jake was at her side. Ignoring Lexie’s surprised squeak, he scooped her up in his arms. Over his shoulder, he focused his gaze on Master Wan’s troubled countenance. “Please see that our guests have refreshments. I don’t know if the officers can imbibe, but if so, I recommend some of the good stuff you hide in that cabinet in your office.”

When they got to her quarters, Jake strode to the bathroom and deposited her in front of the full-length mirror. She was shocked at her reflection. Her face was streaked with dirt. Her hair was a tangled mass of unruly curls partially held in place by the hairpins she used to secure the wig. The black eyeliner she’d used was smudged making her look like a very pale raccoon. Dried blood marked a long cut on her arm. She was surprised. She hadn’t felt Sanchez’s knife. Maybe it was just a scratch. Seeing Jake glaring at the blood, she didn’t think it was. He yanked over the stool from her dressing table and sat her on it. Crouching in front of her he jerked off one thigh-high boot then the other and tossed them over his shoulder.

“I’d put you in the bathtub but because Dan needs to talk to you tonight, the best we can do is a shower.”

She nodded. To her surprise, he pulled her to her feet.

“Can you stand?”

She frowned. “Of course I can. I… I’m just tired… what the hell?”

Lexie clutched at his forearms, shocked. He’d stood her in front of him, and then unceremoniously took down her shorts, pulling one foot free then the other. When he reached for the hem of her halter, she shoved at his hands.

“What are you
doing
, Jake?”

His voice was ice cold. “Be still. I’m taking off your clothes, if that is what you call this.” He held the ripped piece of neon pink fabric in the air, then tossed it on top of her boots.

Lexie was outraged. “Jake, for God’s sake. I can take off my own….”

Her protest died in her throat at the expression on his face.

“Lexie. Be. Quiet. I want to look at your body. And before you ask, let me tell you why. If you have injuries, we are going to press charges against whoever did this. Do you understand? If you prefer that Dan or Mark record your injuries, I will call them in now.”

Lexie huffed out a heavy sigh. She hadn’t thought about pressing charges, and of course they should. In fact perhaps she could use the injuries in her video…Seeing Jake’s expression, she put up her hands and decided not to suggest the idea.

“Fine. Look me over. See for yourself. I got banged up. But believe me, the guys who did it look worse that I do.”

She stopped seeing that Jake was staring at her breasts. Looking down she saw the bruises on both breasts. One nipple looked swollen.

His voice was silky soft.

“Who did this?”

When she shook her head and frowned, he continued.

“A name please, Lexie.”

“Three… all three of them did.”

“Names?”

Lexie reeled off the names and the descriptions of the animals as he turned her slowly pointing out each bruise and mark. At each injured place, Jake stopped and snapped a picture on his phone. As he was cataloging the injuries on her back, he ran his hand over her bottom. His voice was casual as if he were asking if she’d ever had pizza.