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Authors: Jerrie Alexander

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BOOK: No Chance in Hell
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“Let’s wait in the car. This dog needs some quiet time.” Marcus shifted the animal in his arms.

His love for Diablo touched her heart. Maybe she even felt a pang of jealousy. Other than her family, she’d never had anyone who loved her that much. Oh, there had been a few near misses, but that was long ago. She hadn’t dated since Chelsea’s murder.

“Good idea.” She tapped the firefighter on the shoulder and told him where he could find them.

A question lay on the tip of her tongue as she joined Marcus in the car. One she didn’t want to ask. If her guess was right, he’d never forgive her. No way could he recover the burned memories of his wife.

He leaned over the dog resting on the seat between them and swiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “Were those tears for me or Diablo?”

Chris traced where he’d touched. “I wasn’t crying.”
 

“You were.” His right eyebrow lifted.

“If that’s true, it was for the dog.” She couldn’t allow herself to admit how terrified she’d been when Marcus had disappeared behind the burning house. Nor could she tell how relieved she’d been to see him lugging the dog in his arms and walking straight toward her.
 

“I figured.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “He can tell you like him. That’s why he warmed up to you so quickly.”

Marcus had lost so much tonight, yet he hadn’t uttered one complaint. No rage, no self-pity, nothing. Except for his love for Diablo, Marcus internalized his emotions, leaving her to wonder what to say or how to console him. In the few moments he’d allowed her to hold him, she’d felt the tension running through his body.
 

Together, they watched the flames wipe out his past until the firefighters won the battle. Water ran in wide rivers across his yard and out on the street. Neighbors stood on the curb, no doubt glad the fire hadn’t spread. When only a few hot spots remained, the crowd dispersed, cops left, and one fire truck remained.

“I’m so sorry this happened.” She needed to hang on to something, so she buried her fingers in the dog’s fur. If her hunch was right, she’d brought this on Marcus. It was a message for them both.
 

Without speaking, he nodded and covered her hand with his. Together, they scratched Diablo. Marcus’s touch was comforting and reassuring, something she should have been doing for him. But how? She was probably responsible for the fire.

A question burned at her heart. “I have a question.”

“Where to now?”

“No. Do you think the killer started the fire?”

“Nothing would surprise me. We won’t know for sure until the fire department’s investigation is complete.”

A news van arrived and parked behind the remaining fire truck. The cameraman hurried to catch the last of the glowing embers while the reporter rushed to one of the firefighters. Chris cringed in disgust when he pointed toward Marcus’s car.

The day had been long, hard, and full of tragedy. Neither she nor Marcus needed to be hounded by the media. “Can’t we just leave?”

“Probably shouldn’t since the fire marshal hasn’t spoken with me. I’ll take care of the reporter.”

“Are you sure you want to speak with him? Let me get rid of them.”

“You shouldn’t be out in the open.” The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, but the pain behind his eyes belied the smile. “But thanks, I’m not used to someone trying to take care of me. Careful, you’ll spoil me.” Marcus ran his hand over the dog. “He’s calmed down. You’ll be safe if I leave him with you.”

“No doubt.” She scratched the dog’s head. “We’ll be just fine, won’t we, boy?”

“Diablo, stay,” Marcus said. “If he gets restless, honk the horn. You can try this hand signal.” He demonstrated. “I’ll try not to be gone long.”

She watched him walk away. Strong, brave, and alone. Maybe he needed somebody to take care of him for a little while. No, she shook off that thought. Getting close to Marcus could get him killed.
 

Marcus said something to the reporter. The man glared her direction, but apparently decided not to argue. Marcus spoke with a cop and then he talked to a man she guessed to be the fire marshal. Marcus turned to the side, took a phone call, and then returned to finish giving his statement.

Diablo growled, and a bright light flashed at the same time. Teeth bared, he stood, placed his front paws on the dashboard, and then leaned toward the windshield. The photographer snapped two more pictures as he backed away. Chris’s temper boiled over.
 

“Stay,” she said. She opened the car door and chased the jerk. She had no idea if she had the right to forbid him, but the last thing she needed was publicity. The tension of the day built with each step. By the time she reached him, she was ready to explode. “How dare you sneak up on the car and snap away without thinking? You do not have my permission to use my picture. Do it and you’ll hear from my attorney.”
 

“You understood the lady’s message. Right?” Marcus’s hand rested on her shoulder. He gave her a gentle squeeze. Probably his way of trying to calm her down.

It didn’t work.

“Your flash startled an already frightened dog. He’d have taken your arm off if he could’ve.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Marcus guided her toward the car.
 

Diablo sat, watching as they approached. “Poor baby, he’s been through a lot today,” Chris said.

“That’s the understatement of the day. Thank you for defending him.” Marcus’s voice was husky and thick.

“More like he defended me. You should have seen him.”

“It’s a good thing he didn’t get out of the yard. As terrified as he was, there’s no telling what would’ve happened. The cop would’ve been forced to shoot.”

“What? No way.”

“Diablo wasn’t giving the guy much choice. He was one freaked-out dog. Scared and ready to attack anything that moved.”

Chris stopped. Her hand hovered over the door handle. “I wonder what he’s thinking,” she said as she got in and buckled up.

Marcus didn’t hook his seat belt when he slid behind the wheel. Instead, he opened his arms. The big dog crawled onto his lap and rested his head on Marcus’s chest. “That I need to do a better job of taking care of him.”

“I doubt that. It’s obvious he loves you. Had he been treated badly when you got him?”

“I don’t think he’d been mistreated, but he hadn’t been allowed to be a dog. I wasn’t joking when I said he was fluent in Spanish and that he’d been a killer. I’ve worked hard to help him forget that part of his training.”

A chill raced across her arms. Hard to imagine the gentle animal in Marcus’s lap killing anyone. “I’m glad you saved him. Working at the shelter taught me just how much a dog can change. I don’t believe there are bad dogs, only bad owners.”

“Amen. Dogs behave the way they’re taught.” Marcus had to move Diablo off his lap in order to drive. It was obvious the dog preferred to stay in his owner’s arms. “We need to move. Who knows who’s watching us?”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re heading to the safe house.”

“Can we pick up something for Diablo to eat?”

“All three of us could use some food. You don’t have to be hungry for your body to need nourishment.”

“Then how about drive-through?”

“He loves a good hamburger. No onions.” Marcus smiled, and for the first time all day, his eyes sparkled.

Chris’s heart did a backflip. The quickest way to help Marcus forget the horrors of the day was to talk about his dog. He needed that downtime. “That sounds as good as a steak right about now.”
 

“I’m not a big believer in feeding him people food, although Kay sneaks him stuff all the time. He’s been through a lot today, and I think he’s earned a double-meat double cheeseburger.”

****

DaVinci paced the length of his living room, stopping to look out his window at the star-filled night sky. He slapped a button and turned his back as the vertical blinds closed off the world behind him. Frustration and anger boiled through him like hot lava.

He’d put a bullet in one of Christine’s new friends, but hadn’t been able to stick around to enjoy her reaction. No doubt, she’d suffered, but he’d had to scurry off like a thief in the night.

He’d rushed home to his laptop, counting on a front-row seat to her suffering. What a disappointment that had turned out to be. The camera had recorded her protector trying to keep the new friend alive. The ambulance and cop cars had obliterated part of his view. And when the EMTs loaded the stretcher, it was obvious the man wasn’t dead. Apparently, DaVinci hadn’t shot the bastard in the head.

But the worst part? Christine had stayed indoors most of the time, depriving him of seeing her reactions.
 

It was her fault he’d torched the house. He’d paid dearly to have the big guy followed and a tracking device placed under his car’s fender. When he’d discovered where they’d gone, he’d had no recourse but to take action.

Again, she’d messed up his plans.

By the time he’d arrived, she and her new friend were gone. No matter, he’d tossed his homemade Molotov cocktail through the front window and driven away.
 

Then he’d received a text from Michelangelo. A challenge. It was indeed DaVinci’s turn to create, but who had time? This meant he couldn’t keep track of Christine for hours.
 

He pushed off the couch, called his lady in Austin, and arranged a rendezvous. Michelangelo wanted a masterpiece? Well, he’d get one.

****

Marcus pulled out of the Burger Heaven drive-through and onto the freeway. Neither he nor Chris were hungry, but following his own advice, he’d ordered more than enough.

Traffic was light, but the sun had gone down, which made it difficult to keep an eye on a specific vehicle. As soon as he reached Interstate 30, he took the ramp that dumped them into downtown Fort Worth. Most of the streets were one way, so weaving in and out was easy. He doubled back, cut over to Interstate 35 and headed to the country. The drive was a hell of a lot farther this way, but in this instance, safety outweighed distance.
 

Chris laughed at something the dog had done. Marcus took a quick glance her direction. God, add a little humor to her expression, and she became stunning. Even after the day they’d had, she could enjoy something funny.

“Dog,” she exclaimed. “You are a thief.”

He really couldn’t blame Diablo for overreacting. The car smelled like greasy food heaven. The dog’s nose had started twitching the minute he’d handed Chris the sack of food. Poor mutt started wagging his long tail and whining.
 

“I warned you not to give in.”

“How could I not?” Diablo hung over the seat and slobbered on her arm. “You should have seen him take the burger out of my hand. In two chomps, it was gone.”

“I always buy him a couple. One to inhale and the other to enjoy. You might as well give it to him.” Marcus surrendered to the moment and laughed at her and his dog.

“You should do that more often.” Her tone had softened. This time when he glanced at her, his heart clenched.

“Not much has been funny for a long time.” Oddly enough, he didn’t feel stupid admitting that to her.

“We’ll have to work on that. Won’t we, Diablo?” She took a napkin from the sack and wiped her arm before unwrapping the second burger. This time she held it out, open-handed, and let the dog have the whole thing.
 

“Diablo, down.” Marcus spoke in a solemn tone to pull the animal’s attention to him. “Stay.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.”

“With me or the dog?”
 

“I’d have to say both.” Her tone was like sunshine on a chilly day.

Marcus had seldom been stunned into silence, but he didn’t know how to respond. He’d asked a leading question, and she answered with honesty. At least, he thought she was sincere.

Even though she’d been his client for only two days, hearing her laugh eased the stress knotting the tendons in his neck. They both could use a little levity.
 

Time to change the subject. His job was to keep her alive. She’d gone to Lost and Found for help.

“We’re almost to the safe house. I asked Kay to drop off a few items of clothing and toiletries for us.”

“Thank you. A nice hot shower sounds good.”

Nate had recently purchased a small farmhouse, isolated and easy to defend. Their previous hideaway hadn’t fared too well. A Colombian drug lord had ordered Ty’s and Ana’s deaths. One of his henchmen had strafed the building, shattering windows and leaving multiple holes in the walls. Reconstruction was taking too long, so Nate had bought this place.
 

Marcus drove down the long driveway and parked behind the house. “Wait here for a second,” he said, stopping Chris. He clipped the leash on Diablo, and then he and the dog walked around to the passenger side of the car. He extended his hand, and she got out, grasping him tightly. “Stay close behind me.”

“You’ll think I’m a shadow.” She slipped her purse over her shoulder and stuck her hand inside.

“I think—”

BOOK: No Chance in Hell
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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