by Maya Banks
And she totally needed to get out of this cottage before she lost her mind.
She grabbed her bag, made sure the cat was nowhere near the door and let herself out. As she descended the steps to the beach, she looked to her right to see her neighbor swimming at a fast stroke away from shore. She stood and watched for a moment until he got so far away she could no longer see him and then she headed down the beach in the opposite direction.
Her first stop was at the coffee shack, where she set up in her usual corner, accepted a cup of the local brew from Marie and then she went through the steps to check her email. As suspected, she had no new messages. It was tempting to search the local news in Boston but she was too paranoid. The last thing she wanted was to tip off anyone as to her location. And who knew what could be accomplished on the Internet?
Yes, she was paranoid, but she could live with that. It might just save her life. It didn’t help that she was a complete idiot about technology.
Her instinct was to hurry through her coffee, go to the bookshop and rush back to her cottage. But she tempered that urge and remained to sip at her coffee and watch the goings on in the little café, such as they were. She hated the idea of going back to the cottage, where she’d once again be alone. She hated being alone. She was a people person. She liked being around people even if she didn’t interact with them much, loved the big city with all the flashes of color and culture.
She glanced out the front window to watch the passersby and speculate on their circumstances, where they came from, where they were going. When the waitress came to offer her a refill, she smiled and accepted, determined to stay and enjoy her break from isolation.
After the second cup, she was jittery from the double jolt of caffeine and anxious to be off. She slid out of her chair, careful to tuck her laptop into her bag and then exited the front of the shop to cross the street to the bookstore. It was two doors down from the market with only a fishing supply shop to separate them.
When she entered, she was instantly assailed by the smell of old books. She sniffed appreciatively and went to the shelves to browse the selection. An older lady with a warm smile waved from her chair behind the register and Sarah offered a brief acknowledgment before turning back to the shelf in front of her.
It was easy to get lost in books. It was more than an hour later when she realized how long she’d been there picking over the titles. She looked ruefully at the dozen or so books she’d stacked to the side and decided it was enough for now. It would give her a good excuse to return when she’d finished them.
She hauled her loot to the register and plunked them down in front of the woman.
“Hi there, you like to read, I see,” the woman said cheerfully. “Most folks who come through here just pick up one or two. Beach reads they call them. If you ask me, any book is good for the beach.”
Sarah smiled. “I do enjoy books. I don’t think these will last me long, but they’re all I can carry with me right now.”
“I’m Martine,” the woman said, extending her hand.
“I’m ... Sarah.”
“Well, Sarah, it’s very nice to meet another book lover. When you’re done with these, you can bring them back in. I’ll give you credit toward more book purchases.”
“Thank you, I will.”
Martine rang up the books and Sarah paid her in cash. Then Martine placed the books in a plastic grocery store bag and handed it over to Sarah. Sarah juggled her laptop bag, hauling it farther over her shoulder, and took the sack from the shop owner. With a wave, she headed back outside.
Just the little bit of human interaction warmed Sarah on the inside. She needed this. Needed to connect to other people, even in a superficial way. Head down, she turned the corner of the bookshop into the small alley that separated the store from its neighbor. The DVD rental place was behind the market. She’d make a quick stop, pick up a few movies and then she’d be set for entertainment for the next several days. Between the times she spent watching her neighbor, that is.
She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t see the person in front of her until she ran smack into the man. She bounced off as adrenaline spiked in her veins. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Before she could react, the dull gleam of a knife flashed in her face and the strap from her bag carrying her laptop nearly wrenched her shoulder from its socket. She dropped the bag of books and grabbed the strap before her assailant could wrest it free.
She pulled and stumbled back, and came face to face with a grubby-looking man who looked to be in his early twenties. He was unwashed and unshaven and her nostrils flared at the overwhelming smell of body odor.
“Give me the bag,” he ordered in clipped English.
He gripped her hair and yanked, pulling her closer to him—and to the knife he held barely an inch in front of her nose.
She couldn’t lose her laptop. Her whole life was in that laptop. Panic and hysteria rose and slammed through her veins with the force of a cement truck.
“No!”
The exclamation rose in her throat and was forced out before she could think better of it.
The hand tightened in her hair and then she was slammed against the outside wall of the shop with enough force to knock the breath from her and make her eyes water. The man grabbed clumsily for her bag, and the knife wavered in her vision. Taking advantage of his lapse, she grabbed his wrist and knocked the knife from his hand.
And suddenly she was free. She stood against the wall, shaking violently, not comprehending what had just happened. She watched in disbelief as her neighbor, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, let out a snarl of rage as he smashed his fist into the face of her attacker.
The noise attracted onlookers. Several gathered at the end of the alley and a moment later, the constable ran down to intervene. It was over almost as soon as it began. Her attacker lay bleeding on the ground, begging pitifully for mercy. Her neighbor hauled him up and shoved him in the direction of the approaching constable. Then he turned to Sarah, concern etched on his brow.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He moved closer and gripped her shoulders. She flinched and tried to move away, but he held tight as he stared into her eyes.
“I-I’m fine.”
“Did he hurt you?” he demanded.
She shook her head and to her consternation, her teeth started to clink together like ice tumbling into a glass.
He touched her cheek, then pushed back the hair that had fallen over her eyes. She glanced away to see the constable putting her attacker in handcuffs. “He had a knife.” She pointed to the ground, where it had fallen.
Her neighbor bent and retrieved the knife, holding it up as he inspected it in the sunlight. Then he frowned and handed it over to the constable.
“You’ve gone too far this time, Didier,” the constable snapped at her attacker.
Sarah frowned and pushed herself around her neighbor. “What do you mean? Do you know this man?”
The constable sighed. “He’s a troublemaker. I’ve picked him up a few times, but he’s never resorted to violence. He’s a petty thief.”
Heat suffused her cheeks. “He threatened me! I hope you’ll keep him locked up this time so he doesn’t terrorize others.”
The constable’s brows drew together as if he had no liking for her telling him how to perform his duties.
“He pulled a knife on the lady,” her neighbor said in a dangerous voice. “If you won’t deal with the matter, I’ll report this matter to your superiors.”
“Of course the matter will be dealt with,” the constable huffed. “He’s going to jail. He’ll be summoned to appear before the judge.” He looked to both Sarah and her neighbor. “I’ll need the both of you to come with me and give a proper report.”
The pulse at the base of her neck pounded viciously. Report the crime. What she hadn’t, in her cowardice and shame, done before. She so indignantly informed the constable that she didn’t want this man to be free to terr
orize others, and yet she’d done just that when she’d refused to report the crime against her so many months ago.
She eyed her attacker bleakly, shame crowding her mind, pushing her fear and anger and everything else solidly aside. She was a hypocrite. And a coward. She didn’t deserve justice because she’d never sought it for herself.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” her neighbor murmured. “I’ll go with you.”
Startled, she took a step back and found herself pinned against the wall again. She stared warily at the big man who’d come to her rescue, hating the inadvertent fear that raced up her spine.
He stood there waiting, not making a move toward her, almost as if he knew how badly he scared her. He watched calmly, waiting, his gaze drifting over her face, taking in every detail. It unnerved her and exposed her vulnerability.
“If you’ll come to the station straightaway,” the constable urged as he pushed Didier down the alleyway in cuffs. “I’ll need to log a full report so the proper charges can be pressed.”
Sarah swallowed the nausea that welled in her throat. Regret burned in her chest over past mistakes. But she wouldn’t make that mistake again. She was through being a victim. She wanted control back, and she was tired of living in fear.
Her neighbor held out his hand, palm up, his expression devoid of any emotion. It was though he wanted to appear as nonthreatening as possible; and the thing of it was, she wanted to take his hand. She wanted to lean on someone else, just for a few minutes. She wanted it more than anything.
She wiped her hand over her mouth to disguise the tremble and then averted her gaze. “We should go,” she said without taking his hand. She started after the constable, leaving her rescuer to follow.
He fell into step behind her, but he kept at least a foot between them. Still, he loomed over her, blocking the sun as they stepped onto the street. She quickened her pace, unsettled by him, and why, she wasn’t sure.
When they reached the small station at the far end of the town square, her neighbor held the door open and ushered her inside. There was no air-conditioning and it was a good twenty degrees hotter inside the boxlike building. None of the windows were open to allow the sea breeze in, and she glanced nervously back toward the door. She couldn’t remain in this airless place for more than a few minutes. She’d go nuts.
A younger officer sat at a desk idly flipping through paperwork. He looked up when she and her neighbor entered.
“Comment puis-je vous aider, madame?”
“English please,” she said. “Parlez-vous Anglais?”
The officer nodded. “But of course.”
“We’re here to give the constable our statement,” her neighbor said.
“Ah, very good. If you’ll have a seat, he’ll be with you momentarily.”
Sarah nodded and sank onto one of the metal chairs, relieved to be off her feet. She stiffened when her neighbor sat next to her, their legs grazing as he shifted to get comfortable.
“My name is Garrett.”
“I’m Sarah,” she said quietly.
“Pretty name. Very classic. I like non-frou-frou names.”
She glanced up and smiled. He smiled back and she found herself mesmerized by his deep blue eyes.
“Thank you.”
He cocked his head. “You’re welcome.”
“We’re neighbors,” she blurted.
He smiled again. “I know.”
“He tried to take my bag. I couldn’t let him.”
The words came pouring out and she winced at how defensive and silly she sounded. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
“It’s not worth your life,” he pointed out.
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand. Everything is in that bag. I can’t ... I can’t lose it. Especially not to some bullying jackass.”
Garrett chuckled. “I’m not convinced you even needed my help. You had him disarmed before I got to you.”
She made a face. “I was scared out of my mind. I’m so grateful you were there.” Then she frowned. “You were swimming when I left the cottage. How did you get into town so fast?”
He lifted a brow and amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Keeping tabs on me?”
She flushed and looked down. “I saw you exercising. When I left, you were in the water.”
“I came into town after my swim. I’d only just arrived when I heard the commotion in the alley.”
“You have excellent timing,” she said ruefully.
The constable strode into the tiny waiting room and gestured for Sarah and Garrett to follow him back. Sarah rose and nervously ran her palms down her sides. It occurred to her that as angry as she was, and as much as she wanted the asshole to pay for his crime, it was stupid of her to draw attention to herself. Even dumber to go on record where her name and information would be a matter of public record.
The problem was, she hadn’t thought. She’d reacted. She’d allowed emotion to overshadow common sense.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she blurted. “I don’t want to press charges.”
Ignoring the constable’s open mouth and Garrett’s frown, she bolted from the station, cursing herself with every step. The door banged closed behind her as she hurried onto the street. Garrett caught up to her before she’d even made it a block. Though he didn’t touch her, he stepped in front of her, effectively halting her in her tracks.
A scowl darkened his face. “Hey, what happened back there?”
She tried to step around him but he blocked her escape. “Nothing, okay? I changed my mind.”
“You’re going to just let him get away with that?” Garrett demanded.
She blew out her breath as rage curdled her veins. “Look, my preference would be to let the little bastard rot, but I can’t afford to draw attention to myself.”
She closed her eyes. Damn it, but she was a walking disaster today. Nothing was coming out right. She may as well have told him everything about her situation. She’d already slipped up and told him her first name. But that was okay. Sarah was a common enough name, and her neighbor didn’t strike her as the type to get chatty with the locals.
“Okay, I get that.”
Garrett’s deep voice washed over her, soothing her fraught nerves. To her surprise, there was no reprimand in his voice. Just an intimate gentleness that made her shiver.
“Why don’t I walk you home?” he offered. “Since I’m going the same way and all.”
She hesitated for a moment, lips pursed in concentration. Then she realized how ridiculous she was being. They were going the same way. They’d end up walking together whether he was officially escorting her or not.
She relaxed and offered the most convincing smile she could muster. “I’d like that. Thanks.”
CHAPTER 6
GARRETT kept pace with Sarah as they hit the center of town square. “Want to take the beach path back?”
She nodded and turned toward the coffee shack, leaving him to follow. He kept just a step behind her, taking the opportunity to study her up close. She’d been scared out of her mind when he’d pulled the asshole off her in the alley. She was still scared. She put on a brave front, but she was pale as death and her fingers shook uncontrollably.
He needed to get on the sat phone and talk to Resnick asap, but his first priority was making sure she was safe. More than that, he wanted to give her a chance to calm down and rid herself of the haunted look.
Something had happened to her beyond the day’s events. He knew that look. He’d seen it in his sister-in-law’s eyes more times than he cared to remember. Sarah had flinched when he’d touched her in the alley and she’d made it a point to keep her distance at every opportunity. Someone had hurt her.
All he knew was that she had barriers around her like most people wore clothes. She had a don’t- touch-me air that enveloped her and reflected in her frightened gaze.
Even though Sarah hadn’t pressed charges, and he understood why, he had no intention of allowing the little
bastard to get away with what he’d done. He’d let Resnick deal with the asshole.
They walked in silence and he didn’t attempt to break it. He wanted to come off as concerned but not intrusive. Gaining her trust was going to be more difficult than he’d thought, and he had to tread lightly or risk scaring her away.
When they reached her cottage, she took a step toward her porch but then stopped and turned around to face him. He sensed that it took a lot of courage to stand there in front of him. She looked as though she wanted nothing more than to run for her cottage and bar the door. But she stood there, bottom lip pinched between her teeth and she leveled her gaze directly at him, her light green eyes catching the light and warming.
“Thank you again,” she said in a low voice. “I know you think I’m nuts, but thank you for everything you did and for walking me home. And ... for not forcing the issue back there.”
He offered a casual smile and shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him one iota what she decided. “You’re welcome. Glad I was in the right place at the right time.”
Not wanting her to feel awkward, he broke away first and headed toward his own cottage. Right place right time. He nearly snorted at how easily that fabrication had fallen off his lips. He’d tagged her as soon as she left her cottage. It had only taken him twenty minutes to return to his place, change and head into town after her.
He let himself into the house and went immediately for the sat phone. He called Resnick first and relayed the events along with the name of the constable and Sarah’s attacker. In half an hour, Resnick would know his dick size and the last time he took a shit. If there was anything Garrett needed to do, Resnick would tag him later.
His next call was to Sam, and he waited impatiently for his brother to answer.
“How goes the babysitting?” Sam asked.
“Just a hello works,” Garrett said sourly.
“But not nearly as fun. What’s up? Everything okay in paradise?”
