Blaze didn’t move.
Luis’ head jerked up. A siren wailed in the distance. “Double damn.”
Dragging his wounded leg, he half hobbled, half ran to the car and slid inside, roaring in pain when he inadvertently slammed his injured leg into the steering wheel. He let out a string of colorful curses as he turned the key. They needed to ghost before the fuzz arrived. They couldn’t afford to get tossed in the slammer. The Eighty-Sixers couldn’t withstand two more losses. Their numbers had been decimated by the latest gang war. They’d lost a total of fourteen when the Daggers invaded their turf and opened fire. The Daggers only lost twelve men that day. The Eighty-Sixers were strong, and they were resilient. They’d rebuild. They’d be a leaner, meaner group this time around.
Razor, their leader, had been one of the casualties, though his body had never been found. He’d been shot—Luis saw it with his own eyes—but he disappeared and never resurfaced. They searched for a couple of weeks and when it was clear he wasn’t coming back, they moved forward without him. They needed a new boss and Luis planned on stepping into the role. He didn’t agree with the way Razor ran things, especially the trust he placed in Trigger, Jamal’s older brother Jamarcus. Luis would run things his way and if they happened to be more ruthless and brutal, so be it. It was time for a new regime. He had no problem taking out a kid. First, they needed to track him down again and make him talk. Jamarcus screwed them over big-time. Since he was now worm food, it was up to his brother to pay for the crimes.
Shifting into reverse, he shot backwards, almost rolling over Blaze’s legs with the back tire. Serve the bastard right for getting himself knocked out. This was all his fault anyway. If he hadn’t been so eager to set the woman’s condo on fire, they might’ve found Jamal sooner and been on their way back to Chicago. But fire to Blaze was like crack to a druggie. He’d held out as long as he could. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long enough to get the job done. They’d moved on to Plan B, only that one hadn’t worked out so well, either. Now they needed to come up with a Plan C. Third time’s a charm and all that.
Lurching out of the car, he kept weight off his throbbing leg and opened the back door. Shoving his hands under Blaze’s shoulders, he drug, pushed and stuffed him into the back seat. He was sweating by the time he managed to cram him inside enough to close the door. Breath sawed in and out of his lungs and he felt his heartbeat in his leg. That couldn’t be good. Returning to the driver’s seat, he floored the gas and was out of the parking lot before the first cop arrived.
Chapter Six
Declan closed his eyes and willed the cabbie to drive faster. Just his luck. Of all the taxis in Detroit, he had to pick the one with a driver who actually obeyed posted speed limits. What were the chances? Not only was the man conscientiously law-abiding, he refused the bribe Declan offered for him to kick the speed up a notch. Now they were puttering along the interstate at a respectable but infuriating fifty-five miles an hour. His already gossamer-thin patience was rapidly dwindling.
He hadn’t been able to get in touch with either Jamal or LaTonya since his plane landed. His calls instantly clicked to voice mail and his texts went unanswered. Something was seriously wrong.
He was late. Hours and hours late. Jamal probably thought he wasn’t coming. It’d been faster if he’d driven. The plane experienced mechanical issues that kept them on the tarmac for what seemed like days. The flirty flight attendant had parked her perky ass in the seat next to him and tried her best to coax him into the tiny kitchen to join the Mile-High Club. At any other time, he’d have taken her up on the offer—heck, he’d have been the one doing the coaxing. But worry for Jamal overrode his lust and his head wasn’t into it. He apologized and told her that he was heading to a family emergency. She took his rejection in stride and even tucked her number in his pocket with tentative plans to meet up on her next trip through Chicago. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he was moving soon.
They finally arrived at LaTonya’s complex, but the entry was barred by a plethora of emergency vehicles. The cabbie stopped at the barricade and informed him that they had arrived at his destination. He paid the fee, added a tip and climbed out. He almost withheld the extra cash, but it wasn’t the driver’s fault Declan had been having a nightmarish evening and morning. He did add to it, but Declan was here now and that was all that mattered.
The scent of charred wood hung heavily in the air from a blackened structure across the lot. Not much was left of the building. His heart pounded in his chest. The building had been reduced to ashes. If Jamal had been inside…
He stumbled when he spotted a van with Coroner stenciled on the side and the hearse parked beside it. “No.” He desperately searched the area for someone to talk to. His gaze lit upon a middle-aged man in a dress shirt and pants, a badge clipped to his belt. The man looked up from a notebook when he approached.
“I’m sorry, sir. You need to leave. This is a crime scene.”
“A friend of mine lived in that building and I’m trying to locate him.” His voice actually cracked. “I’ve been calling but I can’t get through to him.”
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Jamal West. He moved here recently with his aunt LaTonya Stanton.”
The man eyed him. “How do you know them?”
He wanted to tell him that it was none of his business, but fear was eating a hole in his stomach lining. “I…” He almost threw up when he saw two technicians wheeling out a body bag on a gurney. He swallowed the bile and turned back to the detective. “I met Jamal on a case I was working on a few weeks ago. I’ve been in touch with him since. He called me to come get him. He’s important to me.”
“You Elliot?”
Declan’s eyes widened. “Yes. Declan Elliot.”
“Got some ID?”
He fished his wallet from his pocket and handed over his license. The man scanned it and nodded before returning it to him. “I’m Detective Fuller. Jamal’s okay.”
Air rushed out Declan’s lungs and he doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. “Thank God.”
“His aunt wasn’t so lucky.”
Declan jerked upright. “LaTonya’s dead?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Damn,” he murmured, glancing at the technicians as they loaded the body into the back of the hearse. “Was anyone else hurt?”
“No.”
“I flew here from Chicago when Jamal called me. I’d just come from a crime scene at his old apartment. His mother was murdered last night.”
The detective’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I don’t know how or why she was killed. She was a heavy user, so it could’ve been a drug deal gone bad.”
Fuller’s eyes narrowed. “Are you a cop?”
“I work for COBRA Securities.”
“No kidding? Luke Colton’s company. They’ve got a stellar reputation.”
“Yes. You know him?”
“I met him a few times back when he was a detective in Chicago. Good man.”
Though he barely knew him, Declan agreed. Both Luke and Logan Bradly were extraordinary men. He’d heard nothing but praise from the other agents for their bosses. Declan couldn’t wait to start working for them.
“I’ll give the Chicago PD a call and find out what happened with the mother.” Fuller scribbled on a piece of paper and ripped it from his pad, handing it to Declan. “Jamal asked me to give this to you. He’s with the woman who lived in the condo next door. Mackenzie Bryant. She rescued Jamal from the burning apartment. They’re staying in a motel to get some sleep but they’re coming into the station later today to go over their statements.”
Declan glanced at the paper with the woman’s name and phone number, along with the name and address of the motel. “Thanks. I’ll accompany them to the station.”
“See you then.”
#
Declan instructed the cab driver to drop him off at the front of the motel and he walked around the building
to the room where Jamal and the woman were staying. Several cars filled spaces in the parking lot, but it wasn’t full. He rapped lightly on the door, his head scanning the area for any threats. The window curtain shifted and then the door whipped open. Jamal flew into his arms. He felt like he could breathe for the first time since the plane touched down in Michigan.
As if he couldn’t hold it in any longer, Jamal started to cry. Deep, heart wrenching sobs that tore Declan up inside. His own eyes teared up. The little boy had been through so much in his short life. He’d just lost his aunt and he probably didn’t know about his mother yet. She might never have won mother of the year awards, but she was still his mom. He hugged him tighter and rubbed his back.
“Let him go!”
Declan released Jamal and spun at the outburst. Despite flashbacks of a few weeks ago, he managed to raise an arm to deflect the tire iron that was aimed at his head. “Son of a…” The bar connected with his forearm and dammit, the woman packed a punch. That would leave a mark. He ripped the weapon from her hands before she managed to brain him. If he suffered another severe concussion so close to the last one, he might not wake up this time. The woman clamped onto the bar and tried her hardest to wrench it from his grip. “What the hell, lady?”
“Kenzie, stop! This is Declan.”
The woman abruptly released the tire iron. The loss of resistance sent him skittering backwards until he landed ungracefully on his back with his legs in the air. He wasn’t sure which hurt most: his forearm where she struck him, his behind where he landed on a sharp pebble, or his pride which was now severely dented.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” the woman fretted, hurrying over to help him to his feet. He refused her assistance. Petty, sure, but she’d just tried to kill him. He wasn’t feeling magnanimous right now.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I heard Jamal crying and saw you… I thought you were with those other men.”
“You didn’t hurt…” Declan’s instincts sharpened at the last part of her sentence. “What other men?”
“The ones who just tried to kidnap Jamal.”
#
Kenzie felt horrible that she’d just tried to cave in Declan Elliot’s skull. It’d been pure instinct. She’d left Jamal in the room while she ran to the vending machine in search of something for them to drink. After paying a ridiculous three dollars for two bottles of lukewarm water, she turned the corner and froze. The bottles fell from her grip and rolled forgotten across the sidewalk. She’d left the gun she snagged from Blaze in the room out of Jamal’s reach, so her eyes darted around for a weapon, finding a discarded tire iron lying next to a car with two flats.
No way would she allow the man to take Jamal. Not if she could help it. She never thought she’d be able to shoot a real person, but if she’d had the gun, she would’ve pulled the trigger to save him. Sobering thought since she might’ve murdered an innocent man.
“Who tried to kidnap Jamal?”
Declan’s deep voice jarred her from her thoughts, and she looked up…and up at him. He was so tall and oh my good gosh, gorgeous. She didn’t even look at his face when she was trying to smash it. Now she did and he was magnificent. Light blue eyes stared at her from a chiseled face darkened with stubble. He looked like he could bench press her rental car. She had no doubt there was a six-pack hiding out beneath his t-shirt and her fingers itched to lift the hem and explore. Maybe he really was Captain America.
Though he’d directed the question to her, Jamal answered. “Two men from my brother’s gang tried to grab me in the diner. I only know their nicknames. Boomer and Blaze.”
Declan glanced around the parking lot as if he expected trouble to arrive at any moment. “Let’s go inside.” She rushed back for the discarded bottles of water and then followed behind them, noticing Declan walked with a slight limp. Had he twisted something when she attacked him? He shut and locked the door behind them. Jamal was clinging to him and Kenzie caught the wince when Jamal tugged at his hand. Guilt assailed her again. “Let me see your arm.”
He brushed her concern away. “It’s fine.”
“Let me see it,” she insisted.
“You better do as she says,” Jamal warned his friend. “You should’ve seen what she did to Blaze.”
One dark brow winged up. “Yeah? What did she do?” Though he addressed Jamal, his focus was on her.
“She drove at him with the car and then whipped the door open.” He demonstrated the move with an imaginary vehicle. “Blaze went flying through the air.” He smacked his hands together. “Then he went splat on the pavement.”
“Impressive,” Declan agreed.
“Us New York girls are made of strong stuff,” she boasted. “But Jamal’s the real hero. He stabbed the other one in the leg with a fork.”
Jamal beamed when Declan squeezed his shoulder. “Good job, bud. Tell me everything, starting with what prompted the phone call last night.”
#
Jamal relayed the story and when he started shaking, Declan stopped him and wrapped his arms around him. He was crashing from adrenaline after the scare at the diner and then the theatrics of his arrival. With Declan holding him, he was asleep in minutes.
Kenzie tugged down the covers on one of the double beds and he carefully placed him on the sheets. Now he wished he’d thought to grab Yogi from his truck before he jumped on the plane. The bear would bring comfort to Jamal right now. He settled the blanket around his small form and tucked the edges tight.
Kenzie held out a bottle of water to him. “It’s not cold.”
He twisted the cap and took a drink. “It’s wet. That’s all that matters.”
He sat on the other bed with his back against the headboard and Kenzie joined him.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” he said. He didn’t even want to think of Jamal going through this horrific ordeal alone. “Detective Fuller said you saved his life.”
“I’m just glad I was able to get to him in time.”
“Tell me what happened from your perspective.”
She told him how she slept with a sound machine to drown out noise, so she never heard the commotion next door. Then she described the power going out and realizing the condo was on fire.
“I ran outside, expecting to see LaTonya and Jamal, but they weren’t there. Her car was in the lot, so I knew they were inside. The front door was locked, and no one answered my knock. When I went to the back, her sliding glass door had been broken. I went through and…” She stopped and swallowed heavily. Before she continued, she picked up her phone from the table beside the bed. “I found LaTonya.”
She turned the screen so he could see the picture. Sadness washed over him. He’d never met Jamal’s aunt, but he’d spoken to her several times on the phone. He’d been in a coma when she arrived in Chicago to pick Jamal up. She’d been a beautiful woman in both looks and heart. Her loss would affect Jamal deeply.
“I’m going to delete that picture. I never want to see it again. Detective Fuller asked me to wait until the investigation was over.”
He forwarded the photo to his phone. He wouldn’t rest until LaTonya’s killer was brought to justice.
“You’re probably wondering why I took it,” she murmured.
“As evidence that she was murdered before the fire.”
She looked surprised he’d guessed the answer. “I was afraid she’d be incinerated, and they might never know she was shot first.”
As advanced as forensics techniques were, they’d probably be able to determine she died before the fire, but having visual proof made the cops jobs easier.
“Did Jamal say anything to you about his mother?”
“No. From what LaTonya told me, she’s a junkie with a revolving bedroom door.”
“She was, but she was murdered.”
Kenzie gasped. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I drove by the complex where she lived and saw the emergency vehicles. I stopped when I realized the activity was centered aro
und her apartment. I spoke with the cops and they shared enough information to let me know she was the victim. I was just leaving the scene when Jamal called.”
“He doesn’t know,” Kenzie said with certainty. “He mentioned being afraid he’d be forced to live with her again.”
She grabbed his hand and sparks shot up his arm. By the way she jerked back, she felt it too. Interesting. A blush crept up her cheeks and she turned away. “What will happen to him now with both his mom and aunt gone?”
“He’s going to live with me.” He wasn’t sure what he needed to do to make it happen. If it meant adopting him, he was prepared to do so. In fact, he planned on adopting him one way or another.
“I was going to offer to take him,” she confessed. “I couldn’t stand the thought of him being tossed into the foster care system and getting lost in the shuffle.”
Having been one of those lost in the system, he understood exactly what she meant. He’d never allow Jamal to suffer through the kind of upbringing he and Eric endured.
Kenzie yawned and scooted down until her head hit the pillow. Declan followed suit. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and his eyes felt gritty. Though it was daylight outside, the room was dim with the curtains closed.
“How do you know Jamal?” she asked. “He talked about you like you’re a cross between Superman and Jesus.”
Declan smiled. “I met him while I was working on a case in Chicago a few weeks ago.”
“Are you a bodyguard?”
“If need be. I work for COBRA Securities…or I will soon. I was working freelance for them in Chicago, but I just finished training to become an agent yesterday.”
“What did you do before?”
“United States Marine Corps.”
“Oh, so you’re a jarhead,” she said cheekily.
“Yes, ma’am. Proud of it,” he replied.
“How was Jamal involved in the case you were working on?”
“He took swimming lessons from the woman we were protecting.”
“Ah, that’s his second favorite topic of conversation. He tacked posters of Peyton Durant on his bedroom walls.”
Running Scared Page 6
