Need Me (11 page)

She froze.

“Like I was saying…” He laughed. “Since you’re here, I can go ahead and get rid of you now.”

He’s going to kill me.

She had no idea who the guy was or why he was in her home—or why he was going to kill her, but she wasn’t going down easily.

He had her right wrist locked in his hands, but her legs were free, and he should be paying more attention to them.
Your mistake.
As hard as she could, Julianna drove her knee into his groin. His hold tightened on her wrist—tightened and
snap.

She felt the bone break even as he howled in pain once more and stumbled back. She tore away from him and ran—not out the front door because he was right there. She ran into the nearest room, the den. She slammed the door. Threw the lock and hit the light switch. As the bright light flashed on in that room, Julianna dragged the closest piece of furniture over to block the door. The furniture she grabbed was a big, sturdy leather chair. Jeremy’s favorite chair. She heaved and pushed and—

The door shuddered beneath the powerful boom of her attacker’s fists. “You bitch!” He yelled. “Open this damn door!”

The hell she would. If she opened that door, Julianna knew she was a dead woman. With her left hand, she managed to yank out her phone. Her right hand was limp, useless, and pain radiated from her wrist.

The whole door shook. “Open. The. Door!”

“
Nine-one-one…”
A voice answered on the other end of the line. “What is the nature of your emergency?”

The door cracked.

“There’s a man in my house!” Julianna yelled, wanting the bastard out there to know she was calling the cops. “He attacked me—hurry, hurry get here—”

Silence. The door had stopped shaking. A long crack slid from the middle of the door all the way to the top. The sound of Julianna’s heaving breaths filled the room.

“Ma’am?” The operator said, voice sharp. “Ma’am, are you still with me?”

She was, for the moment. Julianna rattled off her address. “I don’t hear him now.” She inched toward the door. “Maybe he’s gone.”

“Ma’am, I have police personnel en route.” A pause. “Are you in a secure location?”

That crack in the door was so long.

“I-I think so.” She leaned closer to the door, straining to hear the sound of footsteps or
anything
on the other side. “I think he’s gone. It’s so quiet now and—”

“You fucking bitch…” A low snarl, one that she almost thought she’d imagined. “I’m not done with you.”

Then…footsteps. Rushing away. The sound of the front door opening. The beep of the alarm.

“Ma’am?” The nine-one-one operator prompted. “Are you all right? Are you safe?”

Julianna shook her head. No, she wasn’t safe. Heather was locked up but whoever that man had been…he’d wanted to kill her. She was as far from safe as it was possible to get. “Please hurry,” Julianna whispered and then she put the phone down. She left it on because weren’t you supposed to do that? Always keep the line open or something? But she needed a weapon so she backed away. Her gaze flew to the bar. All of the wine was gone—the cops had confiscated all of the drinks there during their investigation, when they’d been testing everything to see if she might have been drugged.

And no drugs had turned up in the wine bottles.

But glasses were still there. Julianna grabbed one of the wine glasses and she slammed it into the side of the bar. The crash of the shattering glass chilled her. She held up the jagged edge of the wine glass, struck by a sense of déjà vu. There was something so familiar about it…

Her fingers tightened around the stem. If that man came back, if he got through the door, he’d be the one bleeding.

Just as Jeremy had bled. Right in this room. Just a few feet away.

She couldn’t suck in a deep enough breath. Couldn’t calm her racing heartbeat. Nausea swirled in her stomach, probably from the pain of her broken wrist or maybe just from the terrible, gut-wrenching fear that she felt.

She could almost convince herself that she wasn’t alone in that room. That Jeremy’s ghost was there, laughing at her.

Laughing, the way her attacker had laughed. That cold, chilling sound.

The alarm was still beeping. No,
shrieking
now. How much longer would it be before the cops arrived? How much damn longer?

Julianna’s front door was wide open, and the shriek of the mansion’s alarm blared into the night. Devlin ran up the steps and into the dark house. “Julianna!” he roared as fear closed around his heart like a cold fist. “Julianna, where are you?” After he’d made his phone call, uncertainty had gnawed at him. He’d just had to leave… he’d needed to make certain that she was safe. A phone call wouldn’t have been enough. Devlin had needed to
see
her.

From what he could see right then, no, Julianna wasn’t safe. Not at all.

“Julianna!” He hit the light switch. He’d seen it the last time he was there, a few feet away from the entrance. Illumination flooded the scene. The first thing he saw was the keys. They were just tossed on the floor. He frowned at them—
the keys meant Julianna was there—
then his gaze shot around the house.

When he saw the door, a door that appeared to have been fucking pounded by someone, his heart seemed to stop. “Julianna!” This time, her name was a roar as he raced to that door—the door that he knew led into the den. He grabbed the knob, but it was locked. “Julianna, are you in there?” He lifted his leg and slammed his foot into the door, aiming for the lock and doorknob. He’d bust that damn thing down and get to her.

He heard sirens outside, the cry still distant but coming closer. He lifted his leg and kicked again and—

“Stop it!” Julianna’s cry. High and desperate. “Leave me alone! The cops are coming! Just leave me
alone!”

“It’s Devlin.” He stopped kicking that door. He put his hand on the cracked surface of the wood, wishing that he could be touching her. “Baby, it’s me. Open the door for me.”

“D-Dev?” Then there was a gasp and a thud.

“
Julianna
!” She was scaring the hell out of him.

The door knob turned and she swung open the door. She had a broken wine glass in one hand. She didn’t reach out to him, just stood there, her body trembling. “He said I shouldn’t be here.”

He grabbed her in his arms and pulled her close. She was warm and soft and alive. “Baby…”

The sirens were getting closer.

“H-he could still be here.” She pushed against him. “Come into the den with me. We’ll lock the door again. We’ll stay safe. He couldn’t get to me.” She was talking far too fast. “I locked the door and put Jeremy’s chair in front of it.
He couldn’t get to me
.”

Light spilled onto her face. He could see a bruise already forming on her forehead. “Julianna, it’s okay.” He reached for her right hand.

She screamed. The sound was sharp and desperate and pain-filled.

He jerked his fingers back as if he’d been burned.

“He broke it,” she whispered as she looked down at her hand. “When I tried to fight him, he broke my wrist.”

The sonofabitch was going to suffer.

“Come into the den with me.” Julianna was almost begging now. “We’ll be safe in there. He couldn’t get to me.” She kept repeating that and it was tearing into him.

Car doors slammed outside, and the swirl of police lights flashed through the house. “You’re safe, baby. I promise,” Devlin told her, keeping his voice gentle. “The cops are here, and if that bastard is still anywhere on the property, he
will
be found.” He planned to call in Chance and Lex and they were going to search every inch of the place.

Two uniformed cops rushed into the open doorway. They had their guns up and they immediately pointed them at Devlin.

“Julianna Smith?” One barked. “You called for help—”

She still had the broken wine glass in her left hand. He noticed that the cops were eyeing it with concern. “A man was in my house,” she said, her voice too flat now, as if all of her emotion had vanished. “He attacked me.”

The cop on the right frowned at Devlin. “And who are you?”

Faith Chestang walked in behind them. “He’s Devlin Shade, her bodyguard.” Her gun was in her hand. “Though I’ve got to wonder…where the hell were you during the attack, Devlin?”

He’d been too far away. He should have stayed at her side. Shit, this was on him. “Her wrist is broken,” he said, voice grim. “And I think she hit her head. She needs an EMT.” No, a hospital was what she needed.

“Julianna…” Faith’s voice actually sounded concerned. He knew she had a rep for being good with victims. “I’m going to need you to drop your weapon so that I can get you some help.”

Julianna blinked, appearing confused, then she glanced at her left hand. Her fingers still gripped the stem of that wine glass. Very slowly, her hand opened and the broken wine glass hit the marble. It shattered, the sound too loud right then.

“That’s one way to do it,” Faith muttered, then she waved behind her. “We need medical attention in here! Now!” She closed in on Julianna. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Julianna shook her head. “I locked myself in the den. He was trying to break in.”

From the looks of that door, her attacker had come close to succeeding.

“But he stopped.” Julianna stared down at her hand. “Maybe he heard Devlin’s car coming and he ran.”

“I got here just a few moments ago,” Devlin told Faith, trying to keep his voice soft and non-threatening, too. Julianna seemed too fragile in that moment. As if she were on the verge of shattering, just like that wine glass. “The bastard could still be close by. There weren’t any cars outside when I arrived. Maybe he’s on foot. Maybe—”

“Get a search going!” Faith called to her team. “Search this house. Search the grounds. Let’s find him,
now!”

An EMT rushed through the doorway.

“I’ll need a description,” Faith said, before the EMT could reach Julianna.

Julianna’s gaze rose as she stared at the detective. “I didn’t see him. It was dark. He just…grabbed me.”

Faith’s lips thinned. “Height, weight, anything…you got ideas for those, right? I mean, he grabbed you so…”

“I think…he was around Dev’s height,” Julianna spoke slowly, as if remembering. “And strong, so strong, like Dev.”

The EMT reached for her right wrist.

“It was broken before,” Julianna explained as she shook her head. “He knew that. Told me it was still weak. That if he applied just enough pressure, he bet he could break it again.” Her breath rushed out. “And he did.”

Faith shot a fast glance toward Dev. He nodded, understanding the fear that he’d just seen in the detective’s eyes.
This isn’t a random attack. The guy knows Julianna. If he knew about her wrist being broken, shit, then he knows her very well.

The EMT was leading Julianna out of the house.

“I’ll have more questions!” Faith called.

Julianna looked so small as she was taken out. Devlin wanted to find the bastard and destroy him. He reached for his phone.

“Calling in backup?” Faith asked him as she holstered her weapon. “You don’t think the DC cops can handle this?”

“I think
you
can handle just about anything,” Devlin told her, and he meant those words. He knew Chance had worked closely with Faith back when his buddy ran the security for Hawthorne Industries. Faith had been an All-Star there, no doubt, but she’d left Hawthorne Industries after some kind of blow-up with the big boss, Will Hawthorne. A man who was one serious force to be reckoned with in D.C. and in the whole freaking world. A man with too much time and too much power. “But I still want my team in here because this one is personal.”

Faith looked over her shoulder. Julianna and the EMT had vanished. “Yeah, I was worried it was.” Her gaze came back to him. “After that interrogation, I knew.” She gave a low whistle. “Are you being careful here? I warned you—”

“She’s a victim.” He could see that. Faith had to see it, too. “And she needs us both.” He started to push by her, but Faith caught his hand, stopping him.

“You weren’t with her tonight.”

No, and he should have been.

“Why not?”

Because she walked out on me. Something happened…something terrified her and made her run from me.
“We thought her stalker was in custody.
You
and I both thought it. It seemed safe enough for her to be on her own.”

Her hand slipped away from him. “Maybe Heather Aslo wasn’t working alone.”

He’d already thought the same thing. “She’s not safe. Not until we find the bastard out there who did this.”

“Well, then there’s something you should know…” Faith leaned in closer and her voice dropped. “Heather talked to two men earlier tonight. Her lawyer, Harry Gibbs, and that reporter, John Reynolds. Now, the lawyer doesn’t fit the description of the attacker. The guy’s size is all wrong, but Reynolds…”

Devlin remembered the green-eyed, blond reporter. “He’s my height.”

“And pretty close to your build.” She gave him a little salute. “I’ll be questioning him, you can count on it, but I thought you might like that information.”

He sure did. “I owe you.”

“The VJS tab just keeps growing…” She headed toward the den and the other cops who were in the area.

“Faith!”

She turned back toward him.

“What about Heather Aslo’s boyfriend? Hugh Bounty? Did your team find him?”

She shook her head. “He wasn’t home and a canvas of his neighborhood turned up nothing. There’s an APB out on the guy now.”

“Then maybe he wasn’t home because he was here.” The guy was sure high on Devlin’s suspect list. He was tied right next to the reporter.

“I already thought of that. This
isn’t
my first case.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’ll find him. Don’t worry, Hugh will be in my interrogation room by dawn.”

Provided that the guy hadn’t already gone to ground. An ex-military guy, Hugh might not have any trouble disappearing.

Devlin headed outside and he didn’t draw in another deep breath until he saw Julianna. She was in the back of an ambulance, and two EMTs were working on her. With his eyes locked on Julianna, Devlin called Chance and put the phone to his ear.

Chance answered on the fourth ring. “Too late,” Chance muttered, his voice groggy, “or maybe it’s too damn early for this phone call.”

A feminine voice murmured in the background. Devlin knew that would be Gwen Hawthorne. Chance’s one-time client was now the guy’s obsession.
No, it’s not obsession, it’s love.
Devlin knew just how Chance felt for Gwen—despite the desperate battles the guy had waged to control himself around her.

“I need your help,” Devlin said.

“You’ve got it.” An instant response, and just like that, the grogginess was gone from Chance’s voice. “What’s the problem? What can I do?”

He was still watching Julianna. “You know Julianna Smith is our new client…”

“Yeah, Lex told me all about her.” A tense note had entered Chance’s voice. “What’s she done?”

“Nothing.” His hold tightened on the phone. “She’s not like…not like the media says. She was attacked tonight. Some bastard was waiting in her house.”

Silence, then… “I thought her stalker was locked up. That’s what Lex said. That it was the step-daughter.”

Because that was what Devlin had told the guy. “A man came after her this time. I’m out at the Smith mansion and the cops are crawling all over the place.” He exhaled on a rough sigh. “But I don’t think they’re going to find anything. And I’m not going to let that guy just keep running around, attacking her.”

“Didn’t I hear that Heather has a boyfriend? Maybe it’s him.”

It wasn’t surprising that their suspicions were in sync. “Faith has an APB out for the guy.” What Devlin wouldn’t give to go one-on-one with that fellow in an interrogation… “Can you come out to the mansion and supervise the search of this area? Faith is here, and I know she’ll share more with you than she will with me.”

“I’ll try my charm,” Chance allowed. “But Faith only shares what she
wants
to share.”

And she’d shared the reporter’s name with Devlin.
I’ll be chatting with that guy, very fucking soon.
“I need VJS to help me track down a reporter named John Reynolds. I want both him and the boyfriend—Hugh Bounty—found. Those bastards are both connected to Heather, and that woman has already proven just how badly she wants Julianna dead.”

One of the EMTs jumped out of the ambulance. The EMT grabbed one of the back doors and slammed it. “Shit, I’ve got to go. They aren’t taking Julianna away from me.”

“What?” Chance’s voice rose. “Who’s taking her?”

He was running toward the ambulance. “Bastard broke her wrist and I think he gave her a concussion. He is damn well going to pay.” Devlin hung up the phone and grabbed the second ambulance door before it could shut.

“Hey, buddy,” the male EMT said, “you need to back away—”

Devlin ignored him and opened the door. Julianna was lying on a stretcher inside, but her head turned and she met his gaze. “I want to come with you,” he said. Devlin tried to sound non-threatening, a hard task considering the rage that was pumping through him. He needed to stay close to her, until her attacker was caught. Her safety was his first priority.

No, she was his only priority.

The EMT grabbed his shoulder. “You need to step back—”

“Please,” Julianna pleased. “I need Devlin with me.”

The EMT let him go. “You family?”

“Close enough,” he muttered, not even caring about the lie as he bounded into the ambulance. He saw that they’d already put a brace around her wrist. His fingers brushed against hers as he settled in near her.

Julianna gave him a weary smile. “I think I need to hire you again.” The ambulance cranked and the siren blared. Her smile slipped away. “I’m not safe yet.”

No, she wasn’t. He brushed back her hair, being extra careful not to touch the growing bruise on her forehead.

“I have to do what’s right,” Julianna whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Why was she apologizing to him?

“I did it,” she said.

He frowned and leaned closer to her. “Baby, I think you’re confused.” He glanced over at the female EMT who was monitoring Julianna. “Is she okay?”

The EMT hesitated. “She took a pretty hard blow to the head. She’s got a concussion, and that can manifest in confusion and—”

“I did it,” Julianna said again, her voice stronger. “I’m sorry.”