The Dead List (7 page)

I nodded slowly as he walked down the hall, disappearing around the corner. Closing my eyes, I swore under my breath. The good news was that those ghastly images from almost four years ago didn’t resurface, but the ball of acidic emotions did curl around those knots.

That was the last thing I needed to think about.

Wheeling around, I inhaled deeply and pushed open the door, ready to do anything to get my mind off of the past… and the present.

I came to a complete stop, the air exhaling slowly out of me as the door swung shut behind me.

Holy mountain roads take me home….

There was a half naked dude in front of me. His back was to the door and the intricate play of muscles that rippled and flexed across his shoulders and back were fascinating as he lowered a punching bag to the floor, next to where a gray shirt lie in a heap. His dark blue nylon pants hung low on his hips, showing of the taut band of lower back muscles. But it wasn’t just any half naked dude, and suddenly the blue truck outside made sense.

Oh dear God, it wasn’t
him
.

As he turned sideways, looking over to where I stood, I felt like I needed to go sit down on one of the metal chairs. I got an eyeful of rock hard abs, a little bit of dusky brown male nipple, and then he was bent over, swiping his shirt off the floor.

One side of his lips curved up. “I was wondering when you were going to get here.”

A healthy dose of intelligence escaped me as I stared at him. “I’m in the wrong room.”

He chuckled under his breath, straightening and facing me fully. Beautiful eyes, the color of the morning sky, met mine. “You’re in the right room, Ella.”

My heart kicked against my ribs and my brain raced to come up with a different alternative to what—or who—was staring me right in the face, but there were no other answers.

He’s extremely willing to help out, Ms. Reed had claimed, but she must’ve been toking off the crack pipe or something, because she had sent me to meet with Jensen Carver.

I had no idea how I was standing in front of him. “You teach self-defense?”

Jensen strolled over to me, taking long, purposeful strides, and Lordie-Lord, he so needed to put that shirt on because I was having a hard time keeping my eyes trained to his face. “I’ve helped the instructor a time or two during his classes, so I know what I’m doing.”

My gaze dropped to those indents on either side of his hips. He
so
knew what he was doing. “I don’t understand. Shouldn’t you be at football practice?”

Jensen stopped a few feet in front of me, casually fixing his shirt so it wasn’t inside out. “I’m not playing football this year.”

“Why?” I demanded like… like I had a right to know. “I mean, I heard you were going to start as quarterback. You tried out for the team last spring. You made it.” My cheeks heated as he cocked a brow at me, and I realized it might be a little odd that I knew that since I hadn’t spoken to him when he’d showed up halfway through my junior year. “I mean, everyone was talking about it.”

He looked up at me through thick lower lashes as he tugged the sleeves out. The density of those lashes should be illegal. “I’m trying to get a scholarship to UM. Football isn’t going to pay my way there, so I decided that focusing on my classes was a smarter route to go.”

How had I not heard that he wasn’t playing football this year? Then again, since he returned, we weren’t running in the same crowds, not anymore. I just assumed that he’d changed. That he was like Brock and Mason, a typical meathead. Okay, that was judgie. Jensen was far from a meathead. The guy was super smart. I just didn’t know him anymore.

Watching him pull the shirt over his head, I now didn’t know if I should be happy or disappointed he was covering up the kind of body fantasies were built upon.

“So,” he said, letting the shirt slide down his abs. “You want to learn self-defense?”

I was stunned. “Did you know it was me when Ms. Reed asked you?”

His eyes glinted in the bright fluorescent lights. “Yes.”

“And you agreed to do it?”

He laughed under his breath, like something was funny. “Yes.”

“I don’t get it.”

Jensen scratched his fingers through his hair as he titled his head to the side, eyeing me with a look of barely restrained exasperation. “Okay. Did you ask Ms. Reed to help you find someone who can teach you self-defense?”

“Yes, but—”

“And that’s what she did. She caught me before lunch and asked if I would teach you a few things. I said yes.” He lowered his hand. “And here we are. That’s not too hard to figure out.”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m not stupid. I can follow along with the chain of events.”

“I know you’re not. You’re far from stupid.”

“But I don’t know why you’d agree to help me. You don’t…”

Now his eyes tapered into thin slits as he took a step forward, his arms at his sides. “I don’t what?”

Every instinct demanded that I take a step back, but I held my ground. “You don’t like me.”

The lopsided grin spread. “I’ve never in my entire life ever said I didn’t like you, Ella.”

The way he said my name brought a flush of heat to my cheeks. He had never said my name like
that
before. Suddenly, he was right in front of me, standing so close that his sneakers were brushing my toes, like they had been this morning. Before today and before Saturday, the last time we’d been this close was when…

Jensen had been my first kiss.

My heart jumped as the memory tugged at it. We were kids, and neither of us had any idea what we were doing, but that kiss had been better than all the kisses that had come afterward. A flutter started between my ribs, like a little hummingbird trying to fly its way out. And I hadn’t ever felt that with Gavin or anyone else.

“I think it’s obvious,” I managed to say.

One eyebrow rose. “How so?”

“You haven’t talked to me in four years.”

“Ella, I moved away.”

Anger flashed through me, bright like the sun. “Um, the last time I checked there is a nifty invention call the telephone and the Internet.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard of that, but… you know, there was some shit going on. More than what you think, but you know what else? I’m pretty sure the whole communication thing goes both ways. You didn’t try to contact me,” he added before I could question the whole ‘more than you think’ comment. He shifted just the slightest, keeping his eyes trained on mine with an intensity that had always been his. “And if I remember correctly, I did try to talk to you when I came back to Martinsburg. At school my very first day here, and you told me to stay away from you. That was the second time you’ve told me that.”

Oh, he had a point with that and I wanted to ignore it. “I think this was—”

Jensen moved so quickly I didn’t have the chance to do anything. He grasped my upper arms and whirled my around. My grip tightened on my keys and phone, but they were of little use as his arms came down around me, clamping my arms to my sides.

Air whooshed out of my lungs as he jerked me back against his chest. Momentarily stunned, I was torn between being wholly aware of the feel of him pressed against me, and the memory of the last time I was snared in such a grip.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked.

His chin grazed my cheek as he lowered his head. “Starting your first lesson. Probably the most important.”

My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. This was a bad idea, like the height of all my bad ideas combined into one giant stupid idea. “My first lesson?”

“You know, the whole self-defense thing?” Amusement clung to his tone.

“B-But I’m not even wearing workout clothing,” I stammered, irritated with him and myself and the world and the Queen of England.

“That’s good. You know why?”

I frowned as I tried to pull forward, but there was no breaking his hold. “I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“Your movements are restricted in normal clothes, and the likelihood of you being attacked walking out of gym class, wearing gym clothes, sounds a bit unlikely, eh?”

For a second, I pictured myself breaking free like a ninja and karate-chopping him across the head. That was also as unlikely as being attacked moments after leaving gym class. “You don’t have to be a smartass about it.”

His deep chuckle rumbled through me, eliciting a shiver from me. His laugh died off and a heartbeat passed between us. The warmth of his body rolled into me, loosening a bit of the knots in my stomach. His grip didn’t loosen, but his body tensed behind mine. In that tiny span of time, it felt like something shifted between us, something potent and consuming.

And then he opened his mouth.

“How did he grab you?” When I didn’t answer, he tried again. “How did he grab you, Ella? Like this? From behind?”

I blinked a couple of times, and my heart leaped into my throat. In a nanosecond, ice trickled into my veins. “Yeah.”

“And what did you do?”

What did I do? Memories rushed over me like a disturbing photo album. As I stared at the closed doors with covered windows, I was no longer in this room. I was back on the long dark stretch of road, right near my car, so close and yet so very far away. “Let me go.”

The muscles in his arms twitched. “Is that how you got free? I don’t think that worked.”

Of course it hadn’t. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my feet suddenly in the air and the horror of being weightless as I was dragged back away from my car, toward the woods. My chest rose and fell rapidly. “He slipped,” I gasped out. “When I threw my weight back, he slipped and fell, but I didn’t get very far.” I dragged in a deep breath, forcing my eyes wide. He…” Horror seized me, and again, I was struck by the stupidity of this. “It’s too soon. I don’t want to do this.”

Jensen held on. “Ella—”

“Let me go.” I jerked forward, but he held on. Panic crawled up my throat. “I’m not ready for this. Please. I don’t want to—”

“It’s okay. You’re safe here. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, voice low. “You know that, Ella. You probably still know me better than most.”

No. I didn’t know him anymore. I stopped
knowing
him years ago, but I stilled, realizing only then how much I was struggling against him.

His cheek was pressed against my temple. “You’re safe here.”

My chest rose sharply once more and I whispered, “I know.”

“I’m just here to help you and I’m going to. Okay? You want that right?”

I nodded as his words sunk in, and I forced my breathing to slow. I came here for a reason. Freaking out was not helping me at all. As my heart slowed, the heat returned to my face.

“How are you hanging in there?”

“Now or…?” I bit down on my lower lip.

He shifted his head and his breath was warm against my ear. “You’re okay now. I can tell.”

“How?”

“Your breathing has changed,” he explained, and boy, that’s how close we were. He could
feel
the patterns in my breathing. Holy snickers. “What about the other stuff?”

The other stuff….

My fingers twitched around my cell and keys. “Do you know how many times I’ve been asked that today?”

“Well, you’ve just been asked once more.”

The corners of my lips twitched, and I started to say what I’d been saying to everyone. Maybe even change it up with ‘all right,’ but that’s not what came out of my mouth. “Not that great.”

“I can imagine.” The muscles in his arms flexed again. “Maybe this will help.”

“Maybe,” I murmured.

His chest rose against my back. “All right, first things first. You can always trick the assailant. Pretend to be weak. Fake a faint.”

“What?” That just made no sense.

“If you’re grabbed and your attacker things you’re weak when you’re not, you have the upper hand—the element of surprise, especially when you have a weapon in your hand. You probably did Saturday night. Did you know that? It’s your keys.”

My keys? “I dropped them.”

“You don’t want to do that. Look at them. You have… holy crap, how many keys do you have on that thing? Jesus. Like twenty?”

I rolled my eyes as I flushed. “Not that many. Geez.”

“I think you have a key for every house on Rosemont Avenue,” he said, chuckling, and the blush deepened even further. It was something I tried not to think about—that he only lived three blocks down from my house, moved right back into the house he’d grown up in—that I’d grown up in. When he moved away, his parents had rented it out, but I still looked for him every time I drove past his house. “Anyway, move the keys so that the jagged parts are sticking up between your fingers.” When I did as he asked, I could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke next. “See. You got yourself a hell of a weapon now. Slam those keys into any flesh and you may just get the upper hand, but you’ve got to get free first.”

Staring at the jagged key edges, I tried to picture myself shoving them into someone’s face. Before Saturday night, I never would’ve thought I could do something like that. The only thing I could hurt easily were bugs. With an icky sinking feeling, I realized I could easily do that now.

Saturday night had irrevocably changed me.

“There’s a couple of ways to break this kind of hold that doesn’t involve throwing your weight around. That doesn’t always work. The first one is going to be the easiest and something people don’t think of,” he explained. “All you have to do is stomp a foot.”

“Stomp a foot?” My brows rose.

“Yep. Bring your leg up—you’re right handed, right? Use your right leg and slam your foot down on mine as hard as you can.”

Jensen walked me through it and then he switched to a different tactic. In a smooth, rolling voice, he instructed me in the different ways to break a bear hug. One involved shifting to the side and bending down. By extending my arm back, I could get a good crotch shot in.

Swinging back toward that area on him was about seven kinds of awkward.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “I know there have been plenty of times you’ve wanted to hit me in the balls, so I know you can do better than that.”

I grinned despite everything. “Now that you mention it…” I swung my arm back, stopping at the last possible moment. When I felt his chest rise sharply, a disturbing amount of satisfaction whipped through me. “How’s that?”