“Remember, you can protect yourself, and you have a right to protect yourself. Your job is to convey those ideas to your attacker. Frankly, most aggressors are looking for an easy target. If you send him the message that you won’t go down easily, that you know how to defend yourself and are willing to hurt him to protect yourself, there’s a good chance he’ll back off and look for an easier target.” The instructor paused when the locker-room door creaked open. “Ah, here’s Joe now.” To Annie, Jan said, “That’s what we call the volunteer in the suit. Generic Joe. Mr. Any Man.”
A man, decked from head to foot in a heavily padded suit, lumbered into gymnasium. With a slow, stiff gait, impeded by the bulky pads, he approached the mats where the class had gathered.
None of the other women seemed daunted by his hulking appearance, but Annie couldn’t help shifting uneasily. The man’s face was completely hidden, the bulky suit and shielded helmet conjuring images of masked horror movie monsters. She had the prickly sense that the man’s attention was focused on her as he took his place in the center of the mats. Digging deep in her floundering willpower, she fought the urge to flee from the room.
The woman beside Annie offered to be the first to practice the defensive moves the instructor demonstrated. Annie watched in fascination as the petite woman shouted at the padded man, commanding him with a forceful tone, “Stop! Get back!”
The demonstration continued with the diminutive woman striking the pretend attacker’s face mask with an upward arc of her palm, then following with a knee to the groin and a sharp kick to his kneecap. The women applauded as the man lifted a hand and hobbled back. The class continued in this way for the remainder of the hour.
As the instructor gave final instructions and dismissed them, Annie glanced around the circle again, her outlook buoyed by the positive mood of the other women. The support and encouragement they gave each other fed the constructive energy of the class.
Other than Ginny, Annie hadn’t had a network of friends or support for a long time. The idea of these women becoming a base of encouragement and help appealed to her. Maybe they could understand the struggle she faced, the seemingly insurmountable odds. Jan touched Annie on the arm as the group scattered and “Joe” clomped back toward the locker room. “Thanks for coming, Annie. I hope you learned something and that you’ll come back.”
She nodded. Though the class had seemed intimidating at first, she’d gained a new perspective as she watched the other women.
Annie grabbed her purse and headed outside. What a day!
Her thoughts drifted to the cooked financial records they’d found in Hardin’s locker, and her heart pattered with a combination of hope and trepidation. Having that proof of illegal activity put her and Jonah in an even more dangerous position. But Jonah’s investigation took a huge step forward. The sooner he resolved the case and the people responsible for Hardin’s murder were caught, the sooner she’d be safe and could move on with her life.
Finding that evidence, taking the self-defense class... Annie inhaled deeply and let a warm tingle of satisfaction and accomplishment flow through her. They were baby steps perhaps, but any forward progress was better than wallowing in the mire her life had become. Taking back control in her life rather than drifting along at the mercy of the pervading winds felt good.
Hadn’t there been a time in her life when she’d met daily challenges with a zest for life, when she’d felt confident and capable and ready to leave her mark in the world?
Yes—before her world had narrowed to the handsome Special Forces soldier who’d married her as he left for overseas duty—and returned a different man.
The hiss of hydraulics and squeak of brakes called her attention to the bus arriving at the stop across the street. Her bus. Shaking off memories of Walt, she clutched her purse to her chest and jogged to the corner. With a quick glance left and right, she checked for oncoming traffic and stepped out into the street.
Suddenly, tires squealed.
A man shouted, “Annie!”
From the edge of her vision, a blur of steel and dark glass streaked toward her.
A wall of muscle plowed into her from behind.
Asphalt bit her hands, her knees.
A crushing weight landed on her, knocking the breath from her lungs.
The same weight wrapped around her, rolling her aside as a car raced past her head, missing her by inches.
Adrenaline spiked through her blood, and a violent tremor shook her. Trapped by the dearth of oxygen in her lungs, a scream lodged in her throat.
“Annie! Are you all right?” Large hands roamed over her face and arms.
She blinked, struggled to draw in air. Jonah?
Her heartbeat staggered as his rough-hewn features swam into focus above her.
“Honey, answer me! Are you hurt?”
Her joints ached. Her palms and knees stung. Her head buzzed numbly.
“No,” she rasped.
Jonah examined her bloodied hands and swore under his breath.
“Wh-what are y-you doing here?”
He steadied her with a hand under her arm as he helped her to her feet. “I intended to give you a ride home from the class. I had a hunch they might try something like this.” He sighed and glanced around at the people who gawked at them from the sidewalk. “Although I didn’t think they’d make their move in such a public place.”
She stumbled numbly beside him out of the path of traffic. Slowly the buzz of terror that filled her ears faded, allowing his words to sink in. She jerked her head toward him and drilled him with a dubious stare. “You think that was deliberate? That that car was trying to run me over?”
His mouth pressed in a taut line, his jaw stiff. “They pulled out from the curb the second you stepped into the street, gunned the engine and drove straight at you. Seems pretty conclusive.”
A chill washed through Annie as she felt the tingle of blood draining from her face. She looked down the street, not certain what she was searching for. “Well, maybe they just didn’t see me...or maybe...”
“Annie, they didn’t stop.” He put one hand on each of her shoulders and met her eyes evenly.
A fierce quaking started deep inside her, working outward in concentric waves of terror. She knew what he would say before he said it, but hearing the words, acknowledging the truth, made the event all the more frightening.
“Honey, this was no accident. They tried to kill you.”
Chapter 13
Jonah kept a close eye on Annie as he drove her back to her apartment. For someone who’d almost been killed, she seemed too calm. He worried that her reserve meant she was in shock, though when asked direct questions, she gave coherent answers.
Her hand trembled when she raised it to brush her hair from her eyes, and her pale complexion told him she wasn’t totally unaffected by the near-miss with the speeding car.
But when he thought about her past, all the tragedy and trauma she’d survived, a new concern presented itself to him. After Hardin had been murdered, she’d shown surprising composure and detachment also. Maybe Annie was suppressing her reaction, bottling up her emotions as she’d learned to do in her marriage. If so, she was a ticking bomb. How much trauma could she handle before she broke?
She gave her children a brave smile when they rushed to greet her in her kitchen. Haley held a fat cat in her arms, though Annie seemed to barely notice. She hugged both of the kids at the same time and held on to them even when they wiggled for release.
Finally Haley and the cat fought free of Annie’s embrace. “Mommy, can Fuzzy sleep with me tonight?”
Annie blinked at her daughter and stared at the cat as if just seeing it for the first time. “What’s that cat doing in here?”
“I let him come in to play. I named him Fuzzy. Can he stay in my room tonight?”
Annie drew a slow careful breath. She seemed so tired and disoriented, Jonah stepped closer, in case she toppled.
Smoothing a hand over her f
orehead and into her hair, Annie shook her head. “Baby, that’s the Smiths’ cat. You can’t keep him. The Smiths would miss him too much.”
“But, Mo-om—”
Jonah intervened when the whining started. He took the cat from Annie’s daughter and carried it to the door. “Maybe you can play with Fuzzy again tomorrow. Right now he has to go home for dinner. Okay?”
The cat scooted out the opened door and trotted away.
Haley glared at him, her lower lip poked out in full pout mode. “When can I have a cat, Mommy?”
The tortured, world-weary look in Annie’s eyes when she glanced at her daughter shredded Jonah’s heart. She rubbed her temple with her fingertips. “Someday, sweetie.”
Rani strolled in from the next room, her arms full of toys. “Sorry about the cat. I didn’t think it would hurt for her to play with him inside for a little while. Then she started talking about keeping him and—” The babysitter winced. “My bad.”
Annie shook her head. “It’s okay.” She hesitated, still looking dazed. “Have the kids eaten dinner?”
“Yes, ma’am. And Ben’s had his bath. I was just putting the toys away when you arrived.”
Thanking the babysitter, Annie showed her out before sending Haley off to get ready for bed. Her worried eyes met his then, and she tipped her head. “Will the couch be all right for you?”
Jonah lifted an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“You were going to sleep in your truck and watch my apartment again like the other night, weren’t you?”
“You saw me?”
She nodded. “Rather than try to dissuade you from your guard duty, I figured I’d offer you a more comfortable post. I’m not sure I want to be alone tonight.”
A tender ache swelled in Jonah’s chest. Annie looked so fragile, so near breaking, and the powerful urge to pull her into his arms, kiss away any fear or doubt that weighed her down nearly suffocated him. “The sofa is fine.”
She gave a quiet, stoic nod. “I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”
She disappeared down the hall, and Jonah sighed his frustration. He hated the resignation that shadowed her gaze. She needed to tap the fiery, fighting spirit he’d seen before, the determination that blazed in her eyes when she talked of protecting her children. Annie needed to approach her own safety and happiness with the same moxie. Through the screened helmet of his “generic Joe” suit, he’d noted her withdrawn and dubious body language at the self-defense class.
Not that he expected her to overcome years of intimidation from her marriage in one session, but so much of her healing and her progress in the class would depend on her attitude. The attempt on her life had clearly rattled her, shaken what confidence she had. She was teetering on the edge of giving up. He couldn’t let her retreat into that cave of defeat. His gut told him Annie had a vibrant, core strength. He needed to find a way to revive her hope, fan the fire inside her and give her the courage to fight back.
The desire that Michael had lost. The hope that had been snuffed out in him by the bastards who swindled him.
The hot burn of acid bit his stomach, and he gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t let Farrout and his men, or whoever the hell was involved with the attempt on Annie’s life, rob Annie of her will to rebuild her life.
* * *
Focus, Annie scolded herself for the umpteenth time that day as she let her thoughts drift to the dark car that had hurtled toward her yesterday. She’d already mixed up three special orders thanks to her drifting attention. But every time a car horn blasted on the street outside, or the distant whine of a siren sounded over the murmur of the lunch crowd, her mind jumped back to the instant terror, the jolting realization that someone had tried to run her over.
And the heady rush of warmth and security when Jonah had scooped her into his protective arms.
Stop it. She gave her head a brisk shake to clear the images of Jonah’s long legs and broad shoulders curled uncomfortably on her sofa this morning.
“I need two cheeseburgers, well done, hold the onions please.” She slapped the order slip under a clip on the order wheel and started scooping ice into glasses for tea. Had they said sweet or unsweet tea?
Damn it. She had to get her mind back on work. She couldn’t give Farrout any reason to fire her now. She filled the glasses with sweet tea, going with the odds. Most Southerners took their iced tea sweet. As she carried the drinks out to the customers, she glanced to the front door, waiting to see Jonah arrive.
He’d left her apartment before sunrise, making himself scarce before her kids got up, then waited in his truck to drive her to work. He’d dropped her off just before the breakfast rush, and after promising he’d stop by for lunch, he’d kissed her scarred cheek.
The memory made her pulse stumble. What would it be like to kiss him? Not a chaste, sweet kiss like he’d startled her with after Hardin’s murder, but the kind of long, deep, soul-shaking kisses lovers shared. What would it have been like to lie down beside him on her narrow couch, nestle herself in the crook of his body and let him hold her in his arms?
She huffed, irritated by the track of her thoughts. She had no business considering such intimacies with Jonah. Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d grown so dependent on him that she didn’t feel safe in her apartment without him sleeping on her couch? She couldn’t add a physical relationship to the mix, couldn’t complicate a relationship that already confused her.
Annie wiped her damp palms on her apron and sent another glance to the front door as a new customer strolled in.
Not Jonah. She squashed the pluck of disappointment and took the bill slip and cash the man at the next table handed her as she walked past.
“Keep the change.”
“Thank you, sir.” She mustered a smile for her customer and headed back to the counter to ring up the sale. The mundane task was not enough to keep her head from straying back to the question: What was happening between her and Jonah?
The shared attraction was obvious. The common goal of rooting out and stopping the people threatening her life and running the money laundering at the diner was a given. But what about after that threat had been eliminated? Assuming they could find the people involved and stop them before—
“How was your class yesterday?” Susan asked, hustling in from the dining room with a tray full of dirty dishes.
Annie took a moment to focus her train of thought. “My class?”
“Yeah. When you asked me to cover your afternoon hours, you said you had some kind of class.”
“Oh, right. It was...fine.”
Susan tipped her head and grinned. “Fine? That’s all you can say? You sound like my kid. How was school? Fine. How’d you do on your math test? Fine.”
Annie dropped the change from the man’s ticket into the community tip jar. “Okay, it was...intimidating at first since it was my first time going. But I guess I learned a little bit.”
Susan grunted. “Better. So...what the heck kind of class are you taking down at the police station anyway?”
Annie shrugged, hoping to minimize the truth. “Self-defense. So, was the dinner hour busy last night?”
She prayed her change of topic would steer Susan away from questions about why Annie felt the need to defend herself or other queries of a personal nature. The less her coworkers knew about her private life, the better, as far as she was concerned. Especially when it came to her relationship with Jonah. If someone connected the two of them—
“Howdy, ladies.”
Annie’s head snapped up at the sound of the familiar baritone voice. As if her thoughts had conjured him, Jonah took a seat at the counter, dividing a smile between her and Susan. A thrill of pleasure spun through Annie, though she worked to hide her reaction. Curling her fingers into her apron, Annie bunched the material in her hand and gave Jonah a quick nod of acknowledgment.
“Order up!”
Annie rushed to the kitchen window and took down the plates waiting for her. Balancing the plates, two
in her hands and two on her arms, she cast a furtive glance toward Jonah as she headed out to the dining room.
The heat and intimacy in the hooded glance he returned almost made her trip.
Oh, Lord, she was in trouble. How did she fight the powerful magnetic pull she felt toward him?
* * *
Jonah hadn’t had an opportunity to speak privately with Annie before he left the diner after lunch. He’d spent the better part of the morning going over the files they’d retrieved from Hardin’s locker at the bus depot. Based on the organization of the files, the specificity of the incriminating information in the documents and the detective’s name at the top of one of the most recent printouts, Jonah was convinced Hardin was working with Detective Nance to expose the money laundering. Whether as part of a plea arrangement, as revenge against the other parties in the criminal operation or out of some civic-minded sense of duty, Jonah had yet to determine. Hardin could have had any number of motivations for helping the Lagniappe police detective gather evidence, and dead men couldn’t explain themselves.
Which gave a new light to Hardin’s murder. Perhaps the manager’s death was less about the stolen package and missing money than it was about silencing an informant.
Had the higher-ups in the gambling and money-laundering ring suspected Hardin’s betrayal?
Jonah rubbed his temple, pondering all the new angles, as he parked behind the police station and headed in the back entrance to the gymnasium. In the men’s locker room, he began dressing in the bulky gear he wore for the self-defense class and wondered if Annie would show up.
Given twenty-four hours to assess her situation, had the attempt on her life yesterday fired her resolve to take back control of her life or had it scared her into retreat?
She’d all but ignored him at the diner today. Probably a smart idea. They were already risking a lot spending as much time together away from the diner as they did. Anyone could see them together on the street or outside her apartment.
Jonah bit the inside of his cheek as he mulled that point. While he didn’t want Annie and her kids alone in her apartment until he’d neutralized the threat against her, he couldn’t risk jeopardizing the investigation, either.
The Reunion Mission: The Reunion MissionTall Dark Defender Page 30
